With Me
by Razer Athane
Summary: And just when you thought you were doing the right thing, all hell breaks loose. Chaos thereafter continually spins. Things fall apart. In the chaos, you need to defend everyone, everything. You need them with you. -Better Than Me Sequel- COMPLETE.
1. With A Frozen Heart…

Hey guys! About time I got this up eh? Lol. Anyway, enjoy 'With Me', the final installment :D

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter One: With A Frozen Heart…**_

In the record time of roughly two weeks, Razer Athane managed to slip from the happiest person in the world to the bitchiest woman at the end of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 4. She was back in her old state, as she had been in the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3 – cold, ruthless, and unfeeling to most people – if not, all.

The few friends she managed to hold onto by the 4th Tournament's conclusion were shocked by her change, particularly those who had known her for a long time. Ling Xiaoyu, Miharu Hirano, Julia Chang, Lei Wulong and Eddy Gordo didn't know how to treat it and were petrified to, in case she snapped at them. All they could do was be as they were in the 3rd Tournament – friendly and supportive. At least this time around she was speaking to them with a more 'friendly' attitude, where as before it was more along the lines of 'adversary'.

As for Christie Monteiro, the little fight, the push to try and have Razer release her feelings, did nothing to help their now destroyed friendship. Countless times within the hours, the 19-year-old Brazilian attempted to mend it, however Athane didn't want to hear it at all. She tried and tried and tried, and every time she was met with a smug 'whatever' that reminded all 3rd Tournament participants of the old Razer they had once known.

The one that just didn't care.

The 21-year-old British boxer Steve Fox was the only one who didn't cop anything from her. He was the only one that managed to spend the final three to four hours with all his friends and not get yelled at, taunted, or receive an evil glare from the Greek woman. He was lucky in a sense, because he promised her at the beginning of the 4th Tournament that he would never abandon her. Ever. And that's why she didn't snap at him. Hell, he invited her to live with him, which she declined, feeling she was needed at her home with her 'family'.

They wanted to know, though, what was going on through her head. The whole time, the 20-year-old's face remained rigid or totally blank, rarely showing signs of life, signs of laughter. They had tried and tried telling her over and over that her best friend's capture by the Korean military was not her fault… that she didn't fail him.

Hwoarang.

The only one who could read her like a book. No cheats, no lies. The only one who knew what was going on in her head. The only one who knew the remedies, the solutions, to her moods, to her problems. The one she spent eight years of her life with. The one who saved her life countless times. Her metaphorical older 'brother'.

The man she would love forever. The man who would love her forever. No matter what.

She still blamed herself for not taking his tranquilizer dart as well as hers. If she had taken both, she pondered, perhaps he would be flying out of Japan and going elsewhere. Perhaps she'd still be asleep. But her being asleep didn't matter, because she knew he'd be totally safe. That was and is all that mattered to her.

Even in the old Razer's frame of mind, he was the only one, the only person she cared for. Not even herself.

Once upon a time, there was one other, though. One other person that she would kill and die for. A native to this land, a man that was also a trained fighter, who also understood her source of inner turmoil. It was a rocky road at first, still trying to get to know each other, understand each other, and for him to break through the walls she had put up around her heart and mind… But when it happened, they were both happier for it.

Jin Kazama.

The name made her blood boil with hate, and her heart still flare with emotions similar to love. Kazama, her ex-boyfriend, so to say, and a mistake she gravely regretted. If she didn't find out that he too suffered from a dark entity within him, if she didn't befriend him, if she didn't fall in love with him, then perhaps the searing pain that drowned her now, the pain known only as heartbreak would never have occurred under any circumstances.

Heartbreak never would've reared its ugly head when Hwoarang finally came forward and said that he loved her, because she didn't have to essentially decline his feelings that she too _still _harboured for him. Heartbreak would have never arrived when Jin ended their long running, two year relationship in an attempt to 'protect her'.

_From what…? _Razer continued to question the day after their break up, looking out the window of her flight.

High in the sky she was now, sitting towards the window, listening to Trust Company from her MP3 player, holding to her form hers and Hwoarang's bags from the Tournament. The dark sky, as blanketed by the grey clouds of a coming storm, as illuminated by the twinkles of the moon and the stars, was her view. She had flown through such things before under the influence of the creature within. Whatever she ended up being…

Unlike most people, Athane inherited a curse from her Mother, once believed to be the Devil Gene, which Kazama too held within his blood, only from his father, Kazuya Mishima. With thanks to Kazuya, it was revealed that the 20-year-old Greek did not possess this particular curse… yet she still could transform into a being that looked… devilish. So what did she actually have? No one knew at the moment, hence why it was called the creature within as opposed to the devil within.

The creature within had some benefits, much like Devil's power. It provided strength and enhanced senses, particularly in regards to scent. Upon transformation, it granted the host claws and horns for battle, and wings for flight. Between those who shared the curse (or similar curses, for example, between Razer, Jin and Kazuya) was another form of communication, like mind speak. Finally and most usefully, the creature and devil within acted as a fail safe, mostly activated in near death experiences.

All three known tainted individuals had undergone this. Athane was nearly killed by her Father. Jin was shot by the Tekken Force on the eve of his victory in the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3, and only a few moments later, shot by Heihachi Mishima, his Grandfather, in the head. As for Kazuya, he sold his soul to Devil when he was but a child to survive being thrown down a cliff, and later in his 28th year of life, down a volcano. The latter experience killed the younger Mishima, however he was resurrected by G Corporation, the nemesis company of his Father's business, the Mishima Financial Empire.

You still owe me for saving your life that day, monster.

_I owe you nothing,_ Razer retorted icily, pulling her head away from the window, realising that the plane she was on was slowly landing. It was the final flight that went from Japan to South Korea, her only home.

Through her blasting MP3 player, which now had rolled over onto Story Of The Year, the half-brooding, half-angry woman could hear the pilot saying how they were now landing. With an agitated sigh, she waited until they said it was okay to get off, already slinging both bags over one shoulder each. One was hers, and the other was Hwoarang's.

The announcement finally came, and with a rush, she sat up, squeezed passed the skinny old lady who was sitting next to her, and filed out, eager to get to her friends, the rest of the gang, particularly Seong-Hada, the 19-year-old who was her metaphorical 'little' brother… The one who organised Detective Anavel Burton to investigate into her media-dubbed suicide attempt.

…Rather, the creature within's attempt at seizing control of Razer's body, forever… To freeze her heart.

Once off the plane, she speed-walked as fast as she could out of the airport, calling Seong-Hada on her cellphone, a slight grin on her face, awaiting to hear his voice. When the answering machine answered instead, she frowned slightly but left a message irregardless, "Hey Seong-Hada, its Razer. I just landed. Woah, did you get yourself a girlfriend while I was gone? That is what, one of the few times you haven't picked up your phone whenever me or Hwo called. A new record man. Anyway I'll see you lot in about twenty minutes or so. Bye bye."

It was back in her the pocket of her jeans now, where it safely belonged. The 20-year-old now stood out the front of the airport, awaiting a taxi or something. She managed to scrape together some money back in Japan, and hoped that the taxi driver would take yen.

One finally pulled up. She opened the door and stuck her head in, leaning on the door's frame asking in very broken Korean if he could speak English. It was one of the few sentences she could actually utter in Korean.

"Yes, but not well."

She smiled somewhat encouragingly, although she didn't really care, "Do you take yen?"

"Yen?"

"Japanese money."

"No."

The Greek leant off the door of the taxi, "That's all I have."

"No," The taxi driver repeated, his black hair moving as he shook his head.

"Get on with you then."

"**Bitch.**"

"I understood that," Came the cold-hearted reply.

He rolled his eyes as Razer took a step back, allowing him to drive a little further down the road. She looked for another taxi, yet after five minutes of waiting, another one never came. Whatever. It didn't bother her. She'd just have to walk back to the hideout as she had done before for the end of the 3rd Tournament.

She whipped out her phone again, dialling Seong-Hada, "Dude? You did not pick up your phone again. Hmm, you must be hustling or something… Anyway I'm gonna be about half an hour. There are no taxies, and the only one that stopped won't fucking take yen. Damn bastard. Anyway I will see you soon…" Click.

A dark boom was suddenly heard. Razer looked up, watching the clouds she had been amongst only a little while before darken severely. It was going to be one hell of a storm. Oh well, the faster she walked, the quicker she would get home, and the longer she would not be in the rain.

The Greek woman yanked the hood of her black jacket over her head and zipped it up as a gush of wind occurred. With a sigh, adjusted both bags on her back and continued on her way through the wind, the coming storm, and the slow drops of rain that were falling one by one.

Ten minutes passed, and the rain was falling at a much faster rate, probably in pairs or triplets now. It annoyed her, seeing as the wind was battering the droplets into her face. With a frustrated sigh, Athane pursued onward, already rehearsing her apology and thanks to Seong-Hada in her head. Her legs continued to ache as she went uphill unhappily.

Her phone vibrated against her thigh. She whipped it out, seeing a text message from her friend, Steve Fox. She smiled caringly_, _feeling her frozen heart warm only that little bit,and began to read it:

'_hello luv. i just got home (finally). r u home yet?'_

She replied:

'_nah… walkin home. taxi wouldn't take yen… its raining and i'm cold'_

'_aw i'm sorry. anyway i should ring my aunt, she'll get angry if i don't ring her soon.'_

'_mummy's boy :P'_

'_shut up, raze! c u later.'_

The 20-year-old Greek grinned and slipped her phone back into her pocket casually. The rain continued to fall hard, continued to pelt her. It was like her thoughts, one just coming one after another, grabbing her, pulling her down and having her drown. Drown in everything. The past, the present, the future, the consequences…

The five minutes that passed were boring and dull, until her phone rang. She answered, "Hello?"

"Oh thank God you answered…" Was the youthful whisper.

"Seong-Hada?"

"Shh, please, keep your voice down. I don't want them to find me…"

"Find you?" She queried, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, "What's going on?"

"Look… Just come quick… I hope you've got your knife with you…"

"I don't. It is in my room last I checked…"

"Just hurry – OH NO!!"

She could hear noise in the background. As thunder boomed overhead, she began to run towards the hide out, clearly afraid for Seong-Hada and her other friends' safety, whatever was going on, "What's happening?!"

"JUST HURRY RAZER, HURRY!" A choked sob of pain, "Actually… Scrap that… RUN AWAY!!"

"I'm coming."

"No, please, don't co – OH GOD!! JUNG-KEUN, DON'T…"

There was another bone chilling scream in the background, and something hitting the floor. Razer's eyebrows furrowed as she heard Seong-Hada whimper again. She ran faster, "I'm coming. Just hang on."

She hung up, continuing on her way, only about ten or so minutes away now.

I wonder what was going on.


	2. …And A Soul On Fire

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Two: …And A Soul On Fire**_

Her feet stung beyond all belief. Why did she run in these boots for such long distances…? It was hell.

The cold environment did nothing to help Razer's aching body as she continued sprinting to the hide out. What the hell had been going on? What did Seong-Hada mean by 'find me'? What was the screaming all about? The whimpers of pain? What the hell was happening in her absence…?

The hide out now in sight, she asked for the creature within to lend her a bit of strength so she could pursue onward and 'fight', as the 19-year-old Korean boy had forewarned with particular reference to the knife. Maybe the police were there, trying to jail them… or have them join the Korean Army.

She tried to open the wooden door, but found it wouldn't budge. She clenched her fists and rammed her good, left shoulder into it, stumbling in thereafter, her green eyes on the floor, still recovering from the rash action. As Athane breathed in, her sense indicated a stench she never wanted to smell again, here.

The 20-year-old truly wished she did not look up. Her hands clenched into fists in complete shock.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ HAVE YOU DONE TO THE GANG?!"

Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala looked away from their work, smirking darkly. Ki-Yerr took a step away from the dead body of Nas-San and folded his arms, spinning his dagger between his fingers, "Nothing you did not endure…"

Her green eyes scanned the floor, blood and death infiltrating her nostrils, clogging her sense with the desire to kill, thanks to the creature within. Dead. They were all dead. Nas-San's huge, muscular body now lay behind the two perpetrators, broken and bleeding. The little bastards… Why didn't he overpower them…?

To Razer's left were Jung-Keun's and Chang-Sun's lithe forms, lying not so far away from each other. Their bodies had also been cut to shreds, like hers had been, however rather than pure torture as she had endured, Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala simply decided to slice their throats and kill them thereafter their fun.

Not too far away from Nas-San lay Han-Geong, who was in the liken image of his close, muscle-bound comrade. There wasn't one inch of his shown body that wasn't bleeding, or twisted the wrong way. Like Jung-Keun and Chang-Sun, his throat too had been slit, where as the muscle of the group had been stabbed to death.

As the Greek's chest began rising and falling at a rapid rate, everything becoming too much for her, the chaos spinning around her, she spotted Seong-Hada to her right. She bit back tears, trying to be strong, trying to be the bitch with a frozen heart two years ago, one who did not open up, one who was unemotional.

Her frozen heart leapt up to her throat when she saw Seong-Hada's hand clench into a weak fist.

He was alive.

Unfortunately, Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala noticed her staring, and came over. Mijj-Dala squatted on the ground as his companion in crime held his knife, ready to throw it at Razer if she dared tried something. He had a very good aim too, even better than Hwoarang, so it was not wise to do so. Mijj-Dala paused and observed, seeing Seong-Hada breathe, "**Hey, Ki-Yerr, get over here. Seong-Hada is still alive.**"

Ki-Yerr walked over and smirked, kicking him squarely in the rib cages, laughing when he coughed up blood. He was still ready to throw the knife at the second-in-command. He smiled sadistically, his white teeth shining in the grin, "**Let's kill him slowly in front of her!**"

The 19-year-old Korean lifted his head slightly, his vision half blurry, his senses clogged with pain, realising he was going to die tonight. It cut him deeply (though not as deep as the knife wounds) knowing he didn't really have a chance to live life. He supposed, at least, he got to see one of his best friends before he died.

His blue hair was wracked with blood, sticking to his head and his face stubbornly. His vision drifted over to Razer, who was still standing there at the entrance to the hide out, frozen in complete shock. Judging by the look on her face, there was something going through her mind at a million miles and hour, though he could not pin what it was. It was keeping her from doing anything.

A slight smile. He coughed, "I'll see you again one day, Raze."

"_**Mum! For God's sake Mum wake up!!**__"_

_She shook her harder and was thrown aside by Father. She crawled back slowly._

"_**Mum! Don't leave me!! Don't leave me here by myself…**__"_

_The blood that was seeping everywhere, the fact that her eyes were sealed completely shut, that her body was limp and unmoving, was all she needed to know that her Mother was finally at peace from the wrath here._

_She lost her._

Loss.

She hated it.

She had dealt with it many times before, but that didn't mean it made it any easier to cope.

She _hated_ it. She hated it almost more than the creature within her. God, if the others were alive now... to see what two of the members that used to live with them everyday once did to her, and now decided to inflict upon everyone else… Even if the others were alive…

She still would've screamed in fury, dropping both bags, and beared the pain of the burning flesh, of the wings and horns tearing from her back. She still would've roared upon complete transformation. She still would've changed into the creature to help those that were still alive… even if that was only one of them now.

All three Koreans stopped and stared at her strangely, one of them realising Razer was going to help him.

Even though she still had a frozen heart… she also had a soul that was on fire.

How dare you… You come in here seeking our hospitality, seeking our protection, and enter into our 'family', only to turn on your supposed 'sister', and later when she is gone _still _trying to win the tournament, to buy a home for the others who _do _care for her, you return in pursuit of revenge and slaughter the rest of your 'family'!

Seong-Hada rested his head on the floor, hearing Razer's footsteps approach… though it was not Razer's voice shouting at Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala in fury. It was a different person, though if he strained his ears closely, he could hear traces of her true voice laced within this… thing's. If this wasn't a reason that Razer kept to herself… then nothing was. And if Hwoarang didn't know about this, then nobody knew anything about her at all.

…She looked like a demon…

His brown eyes watched as Ki-Yerr threw that knife, as the Razer he didn't know existed growled in anger and pulled it from her shoulder, dropping it on the floor, You believe a petty knife is enough to take me down?

And then there was a loud crash and a high-pitched scream that belonged to Mijj-Dala. He had been thrown into the wall. Ki-Yerr narrowed his eyebrows and charged at 'Devil' Razer with his fists, slamming one of them into her side. She caught the other with ease and kneed him in his head, causing him to buckle over.

Seong-Hada turned his head further, half sitting up to the best of his ability, still in a hazy daze, watching as 'Devil' Razer lifted Ki-Yerr into the air, her claws piercing into his throat. She drew back her other arm as she slowly suffocated him, taking one step towards Mijj-Dala, who everyone here knew would be next.

Say good bye to your friend, Ki-Yerr. Realise what your little games have cost you.

The 19-year-old turned his head away, hearing her clawed hand plummet into his body, sickening squelches coming from it. The choked noise that came from Ki-Yerr indicated that her deed was done, and that he was dead. The ultimate punishment for the little games he player on Razer, and on the rest of the gang… His life.

"Razer, I'm sorry, I really am…" Mijj-Dala began, backed up against the corner of the wall, petrified.

Sure you are. We believe that. 

He slid down the wall, trembling in total fear, his legs up to his chest, "Don't kill me… Please…"

I will do as I damn well please. She wants you to be punished.

"Just who are you?!" He yelled with a broken voice, still cowering in fear.

'Devil' Razer shook her head as a malevolent smirk came to her haunting face. Seong-Hada looked back, seeing Ki-Yerr's body lying not too far away from him, blood seeping endlessly from his stomach. He winced and looked back to Mijj-Dala, his eyebrows furrowed. Although he didn't approve of death, of violence (even though he and the gang had to hustle for survival), he was somewhat glad that he was getting what he deserved.

"Razer!! I'm sorry!! I'm _sorry!!_" He sobbed pathetically, tears burning his cheeks.

He was about to move out of the way when her leg stopped him from a possible escape. His brown eyes trailed to her in fear, No one escapes from our wrath… Not her Father… Not Ki-Yerr… and certainly not you either!

Another high pitched scream arrived, though it was short lived. There was nothing but fire spreading from the carcass, fire clambering up the walls, and all about, slowly destroying the home that everyone here had fought so hard to get, to piece together, and to maintain for all these years.

"Seong-Hada! Get to Seong-Hada! Help him!"

He is dying. You will lose him very soon.

"Not if you fucking MOVE!!"

And where will you take him, fool? No hospital will accept him. He is street trash.

"They took me in when _you _fucking tried to kill me."

You are more than street trash, now. You are a prized fighter. He however, is nothing.

"Shut up and fucking help him!"

And where will you go, mortal?

The conversation between Razer and… the thing… was going so quickly. It was hard to keep up. It appeared to the victim that she was talking to herself, but there were two distinctly different voices… How odd and intriguing. And what did she mean by 'when _you _fucking tried to kill me'? Detective Burton had said that to him before when he reported his findings… but Seong-Hada thought that he must've been high or something.

He coughed again, the simple action wracking his body with pain. Razer's head snapped his way, her trembling form running over towards him. The next thing he knew, she was kneeling before him, before his form that was now sprawled all over the floor again, struggling to breathe. Seong-Hada could feel her hands grip his shoulders tightly, the claws cutting into his flesh, "Seong-Hada? SH? Dude, stay with me… Stay with me, don't you dare fade away…"

"What are you…?" He asked, coughing again, blood dripping from his mouth.

"I will tell you when you are not in danger of losing your life…"

You will say nothing.

"Shut up, you beast!" Athane scowled, her head turning to her left, addressing… the thing.

There is no beast here but you, and you know it! You worthless monster!

Seong-Hada's brown eyes watched as she gritted her teeth, "Fuck you…"

You are unfit to help anybody! Not your Mother, not Hwoarang, not Kazama, not Seong-Hada!

"Just watch me…" Came the venomous response.

Seong-Hada's body burned with an incredible amount of pain, "What're you doing…?"

"Taking you away from here. Getting you to a safer place."

He was… standing… He was standing again, with Razer as his support, "You expect me to walk…?"

"No, no wayyy. Think of yourself as light, like a feather, you know? That stupid phrase, 'as light as a feather'. You're gonna be a heavy one, buddy. And I hope you don't mind holding my bag from the tournament."

Oh, that is _real _clever Athane, have the dying Korean boy hold onto heavy luggage. Stupid. Stupid!

A growl emitted from her throat as Razer hauled Seong-Hada over with her to where she dumped her bags. She slipped her back pack onto the 19-year-old's back gently, and Hwoarang's around her shoulders, careful to avoid the wings that would provide her with transportation.

As she stepped outside of their burning home, as the flames gently licked the walls and roof, she placed one arm behind her legs and the other around his back, gripping his shoulder tightly, letting him rest his heavy head on her shoulder. Storm Wind smiled a little, noticing he was looking at her wings, "Hold on tight, okay?"

A slight nod was all she needed, and then 'Devil' Razer took off again, Where to, fool?

The inner Razer paused for a moment, feeling the wind rush past her body, before she replied to her and to her only shakily, slowly drowning out, slowly beginning to become unconscious, _Take us… Take us to Steve…_

'Devil' Razer clutched Seong-Hada tightly to her form as she headed for England, for Steve Fox, breathing in vastly, homing in on his scent. The resolve within her host's mind and soul continued burning onward long after she lost consciousness, long after Seong-Hada managed to relax, long into the raining night.


	3. The Hero Will Drown

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Three: The Hero Will Drown**_

He is dying too fast for me to fly and save him in time. Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala must've done quite a number on him. I wonder how he managed to hold his last few breaths, how he survived until you arrived, monster, the creature within quipped, looking at the soaking youth in her arms, the scent getting stronger.

_You know… as well as I… that he is a strong one… Now shut up and fly. Let me save my strength…_

'Devil' Razer laughed at her inner self, tightening her grip on the youth, her wings beating hard, Very well.

* * *

The clock rolled onto twelve in the morning, the red letters staring at the sleeping form of the 21-year-old British boxer, Steve Fox. He rolled over in his sleep, facing away from the glaring light, a slight smile on his face, truly glad to be home in his soft and warm bed, and to his forever loving family.

…Even though they weren't his _real _parents. Nina Williams was his biological Mother. Not that she'd care. But what angered him the most was a simple fact on his creation. No, Nina didn't end up fucking some random guy, and then nine months later, he was born, like normal people. To his knowledge, there was no sperm donor.

He was a product of the Mishima Zaibatsu.

Fox wondered what Heihachi was trying to achieve twenty one years ago when creating him. Was he going to try and raise him so he could be a fit owner of the Mishima Financial Company? Was he going to be induced into the Tekken Force, fighting and capturing at a very young age? Was his just an… _experiment_?

_Steve._

He shot up immediately, rising from his light sleep, the covers sliding halfway down his body. He turned his head and looked at the time before groaning, his head falling back onto his white pillow, his arms outstretched.

_Steve!_

It couldn't have been his imagination. Someone was calling for him, calling out to him… wanting help.

An unpleasant wind soon charged through his open window. Steve rose from his bed and slipped on his bath robe, that for some reason was lying on his stash of clothes that was on his chair, and felt that person… that girl, calling his name, still asking for his help in her plea. If only he could respond…

Something shot down onto the ground outside. He saw it from his window. Something… large…

Fox sighed, opening the door from his room, and ran downstairs as fast as he could, careful not to disrupt his neighbours, though he could not help it with the thudding feet… He was still tired, and it was midnight.

When the girl's voice called for the fourth time, he almost recognised it. When he opened the front door to his home, he still could not see, but he could feel an incredible darkness, and could smell a hell of a lot of blood. A chill drowned him, causing him to shiver from his head to his toes.

There was a loud, raspy inhalation, a raspy breath, a gurgling, sobbing cry of pain. Steve took a step back, his hand still on the brown doorframe, afraid of what could be out there… of what monster was in his front yard.

A car raced by down the street, the headlights briefly providing enough light for the 21-year-old to see what was in front of him. A girl on her knees, her hands gripping the grass, pleading for the pain to stop, and a boy lying not too far ahead of her, seemingly unconscious. Fox winced as he watched the wings and horns of the girl go back into her body, undoubtedly causing more pain.

When all the distractions had gone, when another car went by, the headlights again providing enough light to visibly see her, did Steve run out in a hurry, realising it was one of his friends crawling to the man's body laying not so far away from her, "Razer!"

"Oh thank God, you came…"

He wanted to ask questions about that transformation, but held it for later, "Why are you here…?"

She shook the body in front of her, oblivious to his calling, "Seong-Hada? Seong-Hada!"

Must've been one of her friends in the gang… The name was Korean, "What happened to him?"

"Two of the guys we kicked out came back and killed the rest. Seong-Hada's the only one who survived but he's dying. No hospital would've taken him in because he's basically a ruffian like I am. Only reason they took me in is because I fought in the 3rd Tournament. I thought maybe… maybe you could help him…"

Steve noticed how weak her voice was and the blood on her body. Razer must've sustained some injuries trying to save her friend. She shook him again, relaxing a little when she found a pulse against his throat. The 21-year-old lifted the man he didn't know into a sitting position, realising that he was totally limp. He spoke, after lying him back down, "So who is this guy? Is this your metaphorical 'little brother'?"

"Yeah…" She patted back his blue hair, feeling blood, "Shit they must've hit him in the head too…"

He stood and began to run inside, stopping at the door, "I'll call a doctor or an ambulance or something. They may not accept your type in South Korea but they certainly do here. Is that okay with you, Razer?"

When there was no response, he asked again. When there was no response for the second time, Steve looked over his shoulder, thereafter finding her passed out as well, tightly holding Seong-Hada's hand in hope.

* * *

As Razer slowly came to, she found herself in a room. She rubbed both her eyes and looked around, seeing that it wasn't a hospital bed or anything, but rather like a guest room, a bed room. She struggled to remember the events that transpired before hand, only remembering the part that was back home.

And then it all hit her like a tone of bricks. She sat up in a hurry, "Seong-Hada?"

"He is in hospital."

Her green eyes turned to see a middle-aged woman sitting there in a chair beside her, a warm smile on her face. She looked down at the wooden floors, sighing, and smiled a little too, "Thank you for getting him there."

"Think nothing of it," the woman remarked, sticking her hand out, "I'm Amy Fox, Steve's Aunt…" It was when the 20-year-old stuck her hand out and shook it did Miss Fox realise she was about to introduce herself too, "Don't, I already know who you are Miss Athane. Conserve your energy."

She jumped the intro and went to the question that was lingering at the back of her throat, "Is he okay?"

"He will be fine. You got to your friend in time. The wounds he suffered from this little brawl were deep but the Doctor said that he should be back on his feet in no time, though he may suffer a little bit of trauma."

Something you said when you first met him at his young age that you would _never _let him endure.

_Now is not the time to rub salt into these open wounds…_

These 'wounds' were never meant to heal. Deal with it.

_I will find a way to sew them shut._

"Are you okay, Razer?" Miss Fox inquired, laying a hand on her bare shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just fine."

"You drifted off there for a moment."

"I tend to do that," She replied coldly, looking down on herself to find her in her pyjamas, "Um…"

"Oh! I changed you into your pyjamas. We found them in your bag. We needed to get you out of those cold clothes before you caught something and to get all that icky blood off of you. They are in the wash. Surprisingly the blood that was on you was mainly from your back and your head, though you had some on your hands and arms, so that was easy to get off of you. There is a shower through there if you wish to use it," Miss. Fox pointed behind her, gesturing to the en suite.

"Ooookay…"

"So, how old is your friend?"

"He is 19-years-old."

"That's awfully young to be living on the street… Who was the oldest in your group…?"

"So Steve's obviously told you that I have no job, I have no family and I basically have no life."

"Yes but that doesn't matter… I'm just curious."

"23, Nas-San. If you don't mind I'd prefer not to talk about them right now, it is painful to think of them."

"Oh of course, deary. I'm sorry."

"It's fine…"

"Would you like me to fix you anything to eat? Perhaps some cookies?"

Razer looked at her dumbly, knowing that she was trying to help, but couldn't help the scowl. Her inner Hwoarang, as Steve would've put it, was slowly seeping through. She bit back her tongue, "No thank you."

Miss Fox smiled and left the room, closing the dark brown door behind her. When the 20-year-old was sure that she had left the room and wasn't hovering outside the door, she stole a glance at the clock, realising it was six in the morning. She found her phone on the night stand next to her and reached out her right hand to grab it.

Her sweaty, shaking fingers continuously slipped over the keys, trying to dial Hwoarang, who had his phone on him when he was captured. Maybe he still had it and it was working. She had to tell him of what happened.

There was a familiar groan heard on the other side, "Fuckin'… Hello…?"

It appeared he had just woken up or something. A slight smile. She tried to speak but nothing came out.

"Hello?" He asked again a little more firmly, some of the sleep gone from his voice.

There was a knock at the door. As it opened, Steve walked in and was about to speak, but refrained.

She could hear him move the phone away from his ear and check the caller ID before talking again, "Raze?"

"Hwo…"

There was a smile in his voice, "Hey."

"Hi."

Hesitance announced itself in his voice when she did not speak thereafter, "…You woke me ya know."

"Oh boo hoo."

"Shut it…" He grunted, "I can't talk long, they don't know I have my phone. So what's up?"

"I…" She swallowed, swinging her legs off of the bed, "I do not know… how to tell you this… but…"

There was silence on the other end, except for his breathing. What would he say?

"When… When you finish… with the army…"

"Yeah?" Hwoarang remarked softly, gently trying to push the words out of her mouth.

Razer sighed and tried to hold back tears, though her voice was wavering, "Don't go home."

"…Why?"

"There is nothing to go home to."

The Greek woman pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up immediately, unable to continue on. Within a few seconds, it was ringing, he was ringing her, trying to find out what happened, what was going on.

Steve walked over, took the phone from her, and whispered to her, "I'll tell him for you…"

She kept trying to hold herself together, "Thank you."

Fox sat next to her and answered immediately, "Do you just want me to cut to it for you, Hwoarang?"

"Who's this?" The Blood Talon asked in a threatening, defensive tone, his voice still slightly hoarse.

"Steve."

"What the hell are you doing in Korea?"

"I'm not in Korea. I'm in England. I'm at home."

"Look, whatever, just tell me what happened to my Raze and my gang."

"Well from what I managed to scrape together when she arrived, two ex-gang members of yours came and slaughtered the rest of them in Razer's absence. There were no survivors except for one named Seong-Hada. She managed to bring him here to England rather quickly. My Auntie and I took him to hospital. He is doing well."

"…You're kidding me."

"I wish."

"Pass the phone to her, I want to talk to her."

Steve's blue eyes caught Razer scratching at the inside of her palms. He grabbed her left hand, which was closest to her, and pried her fingers away, shaking his head when she looked up at him. He was too far away to reach her other hand, but was glad she stopped, "I don't think she is in the mood to talk at the moment."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll let me talk to her. Now."

"I'm serious Hwoarang."

"Fox –"

"I may not know her as well as you do, but I know her well enough to know that she doesn't want to talk."

"Exactly my point! You don't know her like I do!! Now give the fucking phone to her!"

They both paused. When Steve was about to speak again, he was beat to it by the 21-year-old Korean, "You don't know what's going through her head right now. You don't know what she's feeling. I grew up with this fucking girl! I know her problems, I know the solutions. I know her inside out. _You_, however, don't!!"

His voice got a little louder. He was now completely awake, drowning Steve with his many words, "Since I got captured, does she seem colder to you in her attitude? More unemotional? It's a fucking defensive mechanism, and I'm the only one that can get through it. I don't know or care about if Kazama can, but I know I can. Now let me talk to her so she doesn't fucking go super introvert and totally unvoiced on your ass!"

With a reluctant sigh, the Brit passed the Greek's phone to her, "Here…"

She took it and tightly held it, lightly pressing it to her ear, her breathing rugged, "**Yeah?**"

"Listen to me," Hwoarang began, "This isn't your fault. Whatever you do, don't blame yourself. If I find out you're sitting at the top of churches brooding again, I'm going to break out again and pull you off there myself."

"But if I had hurried… maybe I could have saved someone else…"

"There wasn't a chance. You know how Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala work."

"If I had hurried then maybe Seong-Hada wouldn't be so badly hurt!"

"Razer!" He shouted, "Stop it!"

Her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn't crying, but oh God she was feeling the grief inside. Her voice shrunk back as his had raised, "Look… I'll try not to let it get to me… okay…? Just do not go back home. Everyone is dead. I am sure there will be something on the news about seven dead men in a burnt down abandoned shop."

"What happened to the house…?"

"I… cannot tell you now, but I think you know."

His voice dropped lowly, almost whispering his thought, "So in anger you changed, killed Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala, and flew to England where you knew Steve would be, with a dying Seong-Hada in your arms. Is that right?"

"Yes."

It returned to the normal volume, "Are you hurt…?"

"No more than usual."

"Thank God…"

There was a loud banging on the other side of the door. Hwoarang swore. Razer spoke quietly, "Hey?"

He didn't hear her. She could hear someone else speaking Korean on the other side, though she couldn't understand what he was saying. Hwoarang was responding back in the same tongue, waiting until he went before he spoke to her once again, "Fucking hell, I almost got caught. Had to hide the phone under my pillow."

"Who was that?" She inquired.

"Bleh… just some superior. Oh God he's coming back. What does he have, super hearing?" The Blood Talon began to speak quickly, "I have to go, just don't blame yourself or anything. This is no way your fault. Be proud you saved Seong-Hada. There is still a family there. I love you."

She didn't get to return his love when he hung up. A sigh escaped her lips as Athane put the phone on the table and stared straight ahead of her at the deep red curtains. She spoke to Steve after a while, "So is this your Aunt's place or something?"

He shook his head, "Nah, its mine. When you passed out, I asked her to drive out and come and help me."

"Thanks."

"No problem. But… I have to ask you something very, very important."

Razer rubbed her eye, "And what might this question be?"

"I saw you transform."

Everything froze. She felt her heart jump to her throat. She could no longer feel the warm air.

She looked away from the window and down at her feet, awaiting the inevitable, beginning to drown in fear.

"What are you?"


	4. Welcome To My World

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Four: Welcome To My World**_

"I do not know what I am."

Steve rested his right elbow on his thigh and rested his head on his palm thereafter, "How can you not know, love? If you obviously have this ability to… change… into that thing, then you should know what it is."

"What you saw last night was what I was trying to tell everybody when I woke up after losing Hwo."

"Why didn't you…? Were you afraid of losing some of us as your friends…?"

"Midget walked in, as you should remember, so I couldn't exactly finish. I had other priorities in my head when she arrived as you obviously realised when I ran off. And contradictory to what you and everyone else probably think, no. I was not afraid. As long as I have Hwoarang I'll be fine."

"Does he know about this?"

"Yeah. He's known since he was sixteen. He met her properly at the 3rd Tournament."

"May I meet her?"

"No. She'll kill you."

"But she's never killed Hwoarang."

"She almost did a few days ago…"

_Hwoarang._

_She could smell his blood. His blood on her hands, in the room –_

_She could've killed him. And he still stayed. He didn't run off when she was unconscious._

_That meant a lot. Almost everything…_

_For fuck's sake, Jin didn't even come – _

The grin that had appeared on her face due that memory turned into a scowl at the thought of Kazama.

Protect her from _what? _She couldn't be protected. The Tekken Force always found a way to get to her, and even if they were not slinging bullets at her, there was always the creature within harassing her, taunting her. Now that he had been reunited with Xiaoyu (with thanks to Razer), it almost seemed as if he was too willing to get rid of the Greek for someone who could always keep him happy and not question him in everything he does.

However it was that type of things that made Razer who she was. Apparently Kazama loved everything about her (as he had said once), loved her personality… Such unfortunate and unpredictable slippings into depression due to the creature within, such a continuously questioning nature, were all a part of her personality…

Athane just realised her thoughts contradicted. Why were thoughts _always_ so confusing?

"You okay?" Steve inquired.

"Yeah… I think. Hey, can we go see Seong-Hada?"

"Sure. Are you well enough to?"

Razer stood onto her own two feet, heading towards the shower Miss. Fox pointed out earlier, "Yeah."

_Thanks for… making me heal quicker._

Whatever.

* * *

"Hey, you."

"Hey, Raze."

She kissed his cheek before rubbing his head and taking a seat next to him, "How're you doing?"

She could hear the trauma in his voice, "…Shocked, now. You only ever kiss Hwo. Should I be honoured?"

"Damn straight."

Seong-Hada spoke again, "Other than the shock factor, I'm doing better now I suppose."

"Good…"

The 19-year-old smiled sincerely, though it was noticeably weak, "…Thank you."

Guilt overrode her system, seeping into every corner of her heart, mind and spirit, continuously enforcing remorse for not being there sooner, for not defending her friends in their last moments. It was something she was used to… Not being there to help her Mother whenever she was being beaten, not being there to _save _her Mother when she was killed, not being able to be there when the old m- … Hold that last one. It didn't matter anymore, "What for? If I hurried, maybe someone else would've been saved, or you would not be so hurt."

"No… But you still came like I asked. That means just as much. None of this is your fault."

Steve leant against the wall, his slender arm above the 20-year-old Greek woman, "Why'd they come by?"

"They were looking for Razer to finish what they started."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "So they planned to kill me and kill anyone else who stopped them."

"As far as I knew, yeah, but we won't ever know now. Nice job. I just wish they didn't scream as much."

"Scream?" the Brit inquired, looking between them both.

"Don't act like you don't know, Fox," Athane drawled with a growl.

Wasn't it simply _delightful_ and _fun? _I know I had fun. Thank you for getting so angry so I could control you!

Both men noticed the Greek's hand climb to her head. They watched as her nails digged into her temple. Both were still confused as to why she was acting this way, though one had more of a clue than the other. Was she trying to ignore the seething shame? Did she have a headache?

"Raze, I've got a question for you…" Seong-Hada sounded.

"And I've got an answer…" She replied dully, closing her green eyes, "I don't know what I am. Okay? Once upon a time I was born, and my Mother transferred some form of curse to me. It activated when I was only 12-years-old after nearly dying. For the next eight years it told me it was a Devil Gene, and I believed it. Only problem is the _true _Devil showed me that whatever I inherited was not it. It's a portion of something else that could be worse. Fucking creature," She spat venomously, "So… that is why I do not know what I am. Okay? What you both saw last night was her having seized control of my body. That's it."

Steve frowned slightly, his blue eyes looking down on her, "How… confusing."

"Welcome to my world. Deceit, hatred, pain, death and confusion are the main attractions." She opened her eyes and looked straight at the white wall opposite to her glaringly, "Love only cameos a few times."

Seong-Hada managed to bring his hand up to scratch his dyed dark blue hair, "Thanks for clearing that up. Now I know why you were so secretive, and why you barely talked. Oh and why there was a hole in your roof. Much appreciated, buddy, but that's not what I was going to ask…" His brown eyes darted from the scowl she was emitting to the white ceiling, "Any idea how long until I can get out?"

"No idea, SH."

Steve leant off the wall and watched the coming nurse, "Maybe she'll know. Miss, how long has he got?"

The nurse smiled sweetly, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, and looked between the three of them, "We managed to treat the wounds rather quickly, so he should be all good in a week, ready to go back home."

_Exactly _what _home? _Razer thought bleakly, spinning her ring around her finger with an absent mind.

You are a fortunate one for you still have a home, unlike your fellow Korean bandits.

_Yeah, right._

It is true. You were an only child in your family. No siblings or cousins. Therefore you inherit everything.

Her head snapped up, _…Everything…? Like, a house, money, stuff…?_

I do not see why not. You probably would end up with your Mother's Parents' house in the mountains.

…_What if they're… alive…? I… I would have family… My _real _family… I hope they're alive…_

Do not count on it. Even so the possibilities of you holding the inheritance are slim for I am sure you were believed to be dead until the 3rd Tournament. Further all items probably would have been auctioned off due to your 'death', because you did not come forth and claim such items.

_You don't just tell me that I'm well off and then take that away from me,_ She replied with malice.

Whatever. I will leave you to grieve, monster.

Snapping fingers in front of her face brought Athane back to this reality, "_What?_"

"What're ya thinking about?" Seong-Hada inquired with a small smile.

She looked back down to her ring, still spinning it, watching 'Your Angel' slowly pop up, "Things."

"Like…? C'mon you can tell me. Steve's gone."

"What? Where'd he go? He was my lift!"

Amusement danced in his eyes, "…He's gone to the little boy's room, Raze."

She went to retaliate but looked away again, recoiling at his eyes that were in the exact image of Kazama's.

You cannot hold in your tears forever. Even when you swore you would never cry again after you left home, you still broke down. Even when you convinced yourself that to emote at the accused 'loss' of him and the absence of Hwoarang was weakness, that the way out was totally numb yourself, you still caved in! Weak mortal.

_I will cry. Just not now. I need to be strong._

It is better to have loved than lost. Now you are forever alone with no one but me to torment you.

"Shut up…" Came the small hiss. Her green eyes noticed Seong-Hada raising his eyebrow, "Not _you_."

"Oooookay… This is gonna take some getting used to…"

Razer smiled a little and sighed silently. Even though Ki-Yerr and Mijj-Dala took away four of her friends' lives many, many hours before, she was just glad that she was able to save someone… even if it was just one.

* * *

Later that evening, Steve had brought Razer back to his home. Amy Fox was still hanging around, trying to help every so often, and returned home once she was satisfied with herself. It left Steve and Razer alone with their thoughts for a while, talking every so often, the former showing the latter around his home.

Such small talk was abruptly halted when Fox's home phone began to ring. He answered, "Hello?"

"Steeeeeeeeeve!" Came an over-zealous yell.

"Christie!" He shouted just as happily, resting his hand on the desk, "How are you?"

The Greek caringlysmiled and left the lounge room, heading back up to the guest room where she woke up earlier that morning. It was now approaching nine at night and she was awfully tired. Piecing together a lack of sleep along with exhaustion and injuries was never a good thing.

Her phone that was laying idly on the nightstand next to her had registered a text message from Hwo:

'_i love u'_

She noticed the time, realising it was sent only five minutes before she walked up. She replied quickly:

'_i love u 2'_

'_i love u more'_

'_ur making me smile…'_

'_good.'_

'_ass'_

'_its nice, isn't it?'_

'_what is?'_

'_my ass…'_

'_-.-'_

'_heh heh :D… what r you doing?'_

'_packing'_

'…_y?'_

'_i'm going home 2morrow'_

'_wat home? its gone'_

She smiled to herself, zipping up her back pack, now in her pyjamas. The possible solutions that the creature within had been siphoning into her that there may have been some people in her family that were still alive excited her beyond all belief. Razer quietly couldn't wait and was bursting with hope.

But that was only one reason she decided to do this. The flashbacks, the pain that was stabbing her in her heart and mind as she sent text messages to Hwoarang during her packing had driven her to do something about it… She remembered what she had written vaguely to Detective Burton a few days ago, saying how she was going to try and better herself for her own gain, for the Blood Talon, and for the friends that stood by her.

'_not 2 sth korea. 2 greece.'_

The 20-year-old silently sat at the desk near the closed window, with a pen and paper in hand, and began to write, happily prepared to leave a letter behind for Steve and Seong-Hada, so they didn't think that she was abandoning them. No. There was a reason, a distinct reason that could no longer be ignored. Its time was now.

After eight long, burdensome years, it was finally time to face her demons.


	5. Someone's Missing Me

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Five: Someone's Missing Me**_

_Guys,_

_I am not abandoning you. I never would._

_I am not running away. I've done enough of that._

_The time has come. _

_I do not know how long I will be gone._

_I will text one of you when I return to England._

_I am going back home. To my real home._

_To where everything fell apart._

_I am going to face my demons._

_Have a safe trip, Razer,_ Steve thought quietly with a small, warm smile, placing the letter back on the table.

* * *

_Please be gentle… _Athane pleaded, resting against a large tree.

Her request went unheard. The horns and wings painfully retreated into her body as they had done many times before. Sometimes she wished she could see her back, just to see how bad the marks were there… To see the scars. Sometimes the mirror simply was not enough, and even then she couldn't see them too well.

I take it you remember the way home, monster?

A small nod. She slipped her clean black, hooded jacket back on, zipping it all the way up, and pulled the hoodie over her head so that people could not see the blood on her head. Blood… something she was accustomed to having on her a lot. How it stained so many of her clothes. Thank God most of them were black.

With a shaky inhalation, Razer began to walk from the small forest that was only about ten minutes away from her childhood home. She used to run away to here whenever her Father became too much for her. He never found her here, and she was grateful for that… But sometimes she wished she never went in the first place, for the wounds he would later inflict on her with his brutish hands would be doubly worse.

I wonder how your neighbourhood will react upon seeing you set foot down their street again.

She ignored the comment, knowing the reaction of those people would be of pure astonishment and disbelief for even considering a return to here after such a horrific, traumatic night. Many heard the screams coming from within the two-story, simple home, yet no one would ever see with their eyes what occurred within.

It would be interesting to see if the home has been demolished and rebuilt… 

What would such a new house look like? Would it have the same, 'perfect' appearance, made of brick, with a blossoming flower garden within a standard, shiny white fence? Would the people inside be happy and safe, unlike the previous owners of such a regular block of land?

…And if they found your parents' destroyed remains.

Would they have gathered the burnt bodies and buried them? Where would they have buried them? Who would've attended the funeral? Would _she _be on the list of the dead, though with no body found? That last one had to be impossible… After all, the King Of Iron Fist Tournaments were broadcast around the world, right…?

Would the people who managed to break finally, the fire fighters who would've put the flames out… would they have gathered her parents' ashes and buried them in a jar as an act of respect? Would the ashes have been scattered across the destroyed home? Thrown into the wind? Abandoned to demolish into specs of dust?

Razer stopped at the end of her street and looked in. Did ten minutes pass so quickly already…?

_One step at a time,_ She told herself in a means that reminded the creature within of Jin Kazama.

Her shaky grip tightened on her back pack's straps as she placed one foot in front of the other in a continuous fashion, as she could hear the blood pump in her ears from fear. It wasn't a fear of returning home, it wasn't a fear of what the others in the neighbourhood would say upon her return… It was a panic of the memories, an undying fear of her Father's anger and abuse, of the childhood she never ever had.

She could've been playing here in the street with the many other children, playing hopscotch or jump rope, playing cards or playing soccer… But no, there was none of that. There was hiding with her Mother upstairs in the master bedroom, cowering in fear as each blow was dealt, trembling with exhaustion as she tried to defy them, tried to show him that she was not worthless or weak, but rather that she was valuable and strong.

"**Oh my God…**"

So, they were starting to notice her already. The 20-year-old Greek turned her head to the left, still shaking, breathing in and out in complete nervousness, seeing a middle-aged fat man, who was going out to get the morning paper, staring at her with complete shock, not even half way down to picking up the item.

"**It can't be…**" Another sounded.

Razer's head snapped to the right slightly, seeing up ahead someone that was her age, the young girl who used to try and talk with her on the bus on way to school, though all attempts to get to know the quivering and tormented child failed. The name of the individual reaching out was long forgotten and was unimportant.

"**She's back…?**" A third asked. It was the middle-aged man's wife. She was standing beside him.

These people around her… the ones staring at her… whispering about her… They just didn't understand…

They remember you.

Yet she didn't remember them. She didn't want to. She wanted to forget. Athane did not want to remember anything from here, yet she had already proved that she remembered her way home from the forest, and that she already recognised one of the people gawking at her as if she was a ghost that had risen from the dead.

So close now, oh so close to the place of her unravelling, to the place where the creature within first made itself known, to where so much blood was shed. She was at number thirty, she realised, and had already gathered a small crowd following her, staring at her hopefully and somewhat longingly. Only four more houses down and she'd be _there_, she'd be standing in a spot she long abandoned…

Razer cursed the giant, wooden white house that had always blocked her view of where her house lived. Even eight years later, it never seemed to move, and from what she could see, there were no signs of age. Yet the people who lived in there were the first to hear the screams, the first to try and break into her home.

"**I can't believe it! It **_**is **_**her!**" The girl that was her age yelled, "**Its Razer Athane! She's back!**"

This observation seemed to gather more attention, even to those who were indoors. Storm Wind nervously span Hwoarang's promise ring around her finger with her thumb, pulling it towards her direction, keeping it moving at all times. It was like a comfort, but it would not prepare her for the sheer impact of returning home.

Number thirty six's towering building finally moved out of the way, stopping its view obstruction. Her forest green eyes now rested upon what was left of number thirty eight, of the home she ran away from so long ago…

There was nothing… Nothing but grass, weeds, and other meaningless flora growing over the burnt wood.

That was all that was left of her home, of her past. The two objects that were in front of where the house would've stood were totally new, something she did not ever remember, something that did not exist in her past.

Two small-to-medium sized crucifixes resurrected next to each other. The stone was barely aged. Razer stood directly in front of them both. Her right hand (which had stopped spinning the ring) that was in her pocket, and her left hand that was holding her back pack, were both shaking violently. Her throat was stingingly tight.

Sometime since her departure, the people of this street had made crucifixes to honour her parents' memory. She squinted hard enough to see a closing hole in the ground. There must have been one for her too, until they saw her participating in the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3, and then decided to remove it.

"**We put them there about a week after the house burnt down. We couldn't find their bodies.**"

Razer's head snapped to her right, seeing an old lady smiling there sorrowfully, her glasses sitting on her nose firmly, her grey hair pulled back into a bun, her frail hands resting on her cane. Even after all these years, Angela, her next door neighbour, still lived here. She remembered her Mother taking her to Angela's house a few times whenever they were both out of town. She was like her close-to-home Grandmother.

Her green eyes snapped back to the stones. She squinted closely, seeing inscriptions:

'_Nicholas Athane. Died aged 37.'_

'_Victoria Athane. Died aged 37.'_

The first tears finally fell. The creature within taunted her once, and then left her be, playing the 'I told you so' game, pointing out how the 20-year-old Greek simply couldn't keep her tear ducts shut. But that was okay to the host. There was actually a reason to cry now. She was standing in front of her parent's 'graves'.

She was standing before the life she still tried to forget.

Razer slipped her bag off of her shoulder, dropped it on the ground, and approached her Mother's crucifix slowly until she was directly in front of it. Its height only came up to her knee. She stared at it longingly, affectionately, desperately wishing that her Mother had been spared, that she was still alive today to help her deal with the creature within, with everything that ever happened to her… She didn't want to be alone…

Her green eyes drifted to her Father's grave, glaring at it with anger. At least he got what he deserved. Something she never knew, but something she wished to know more than anything, was why her Father was so motivated to inflict harm. Why was he so bad? Why did he hit them? Why did he pretend to love them?

…_I wish you loved me… _

The creature within, who was about to speak, about to start the cycle of taunting her about how much she enjoyed destroying the man, was quickly and immediately silenced with surprise by the statement just thought of. She decided, for once, at least now, at least here, in this instant... to be kind. She kept her mouth shut.

In a small act of respect, Athane slipped off her hood. A hood was like a hat, right? It was disrespectful to have such an item nestled on her head in such instances. She ran an unsteady hand through her brown hair, messing it up in one sense to cover the blood on her temples, but in another, still nervous, still suffering, still shocked.

The 20-year-old fell to her knees, breathing in a sob, and placed her hands on her Mother's crucifix. She marvelled at the design and smiled a little, speaking to her, "**I wish… that I came sooner to see you again.**"

Something around here, like a spiritual energy, forced her to smile. It was a happy feeling.

"**I'm sorry. For everything…**" She whispered tearfully, resting her head against it, "**For everything…**"

Raze… if… if I could put a hand on your shoulder right now… know that I would.

Her eyes snapped shut, trying to see the creature in her tainted form, but failing to do so, _…Kindness…?_

I am proud of you. And I don't mean this in a mean, cruel way. It is honesty.

_Why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden…? Only a few minutes ago you were haunting me…_

The creature within silenced. Athane sighed and opened her eyes again, feeling the tears build up.

That feeling of happiness swarmed all over again, seeping into every part of her mind, heart, body and soul. It invaded her like a disease, and the extent of the joy was foreign and unknown. She couldn't remember when she had been so happy. She had never been this happy. Ever. Not even Hwo could pull her up to this height.

It was peaceful.

"**Welcome home, Razer,**" Angela sounded proudly.

At last, a true smile. She was missed by people that didn't even know her.


	6. Portraits Of Memories

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** lol some of you liked that last chapter eh? Well lol. I probably should've warned you guys before hand that a lot of the earlier chapters of this fic are Razer-centric. Lol. Any who, this is more of a talky chapter. I feel it is needed.

_**Chapter Six: Portraits Of Memories**_

"**Where did you go after that night?**" Angela inquired, taking a sip of her coffee.

Razer nervously bounced her leg, sitting on the flowery couch that was still here even after all these years. And even after all these years, the 20-year-old still declined the woman's coffee offer, "**I went to South Korea.**"

"**God, that far?**"

"**Yeah… I don't remember how though. But I wound up in an alley around the corner from a dojang… and I was… still hurt from what was going on at home,**" Well, she had to lie a little bit… Right?

Angela frowned, her light brown eyes shining under the light, "**How did you survive though, dear?**"

"**Someone found me. He helped me get better. He lived in the dojang with his Master…**"

"**And the boy's name is?**"

She took off the locket and tossed it to her, "**His name is Hwoarang. He's 21 now.**"

Angela put her coffee down on the coaster and managed to pry the locket open with her withered, fragile, old fingers. She stared at the picture and then looked up and smiled, "**A King Of Iron Fist participant.**"

"**He dragged me there. That was during the 3****rd**** Tournament.**"

"**I remember seeing your fight against Heihachi Mishima during that tournament on the television, and then seeing him walk up to carry you off…**" She leant across the glass table and placed it back in Athane's hand, watching as she slipped it on, "**I was wondering who that boy was. And when I saw you take him off the arena a few weeks ago in the 4****th**** Tournament after his match against Kazuya Mishima, I was thinking that maybe he was your boyfriend or something.**"

A small chuckle, "**No, just best friend. And, now you know who he is…**"

Angela stood, grabbing her cane once again. She felt green eyes follow her. A small smile appeared on her face, "**When the fire fighters managed to put the blaze out… we managed to salvage some things from the wreckage. I have kept them for you, and now that you are here, I would like to give them to you.**"

Her eyes widened slightly and the surprise amplified. She too stood, her back pack in hand, and followed the small old lady to a bedroom, a guest room near the back of the house, the room she used to sleep in whenever she slept over. Razer smiled. It used to be so much bigger when she was younger…

Angela walked towards a cupboard and opened it. Sitting idly on the middle shelf was a box sealed with brown tape. She took it down rather easily. All that proves is that even in old age you can still lift heavy boxes and what not. She turned away, closing the opened cupboard door with her foot, and placed it on the bed. She smiled, grabbed her cane, and began to walk out, slowly closing the door behind her, "**Take a look. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. I will be ordering pizza for lunch in about two hours. I would like you to join me… You look awfully thin. I will see you then I suppose.**"

Athane continued staring at the box. Some pieces of her past were there. She wondered what survived…

She took off her boots and placed them next to her back pack, which was now in the corner of the room, and returned to the box, sitting cross legged on her to-be-temporary bed. Razer managed to take off the tape, and when she was done, her phone rang. She answered, "Hello…?"

"So… are you okay…?"

She put Hwoarang on speaker, placing her cellphone on her thigh, "I think so, but I am unsure… The house is as it was when I left… destroyed. They put to crosses out the front of the house for Mum and for Dad."

"Well that's nice."

"They had one for me but they took it down when they saw me on television at the 3rd Tournament."

"Ah."

"The lady that lived next door to me managed to recover some of the stuff from my house before it burnt down… I just opened the box and what not… I'm… I'm scared to look in… I do not know what could be in here…"

"Do it slowly, then."

Her shaky hands peeled back the four flaps of the brown box as she exhaled. Razer smiled and took out what was on the top, observing it carefully, "Aaaand the first item in this box of mine… is the German Shepard plush toy I used to sleep with…"

"Like the Pegasus Baek made for you."

"Yeah… Its ears are a little singed…" She put it down behind her and smiled again, checking out the next item, "Second one is a story book Mum used to read to me before I went to sleep… It's just all the Greek myths and stuff… Sides are singed, and the top right hand corner has almost been completely burnt off."

Razer shakily put that behind her too and picked up the next item, staring at it silently. She ran her fingers over the glass, marvelled at how the third item was in no way, shape or form damaged or burnt. A sniffle.

Her silence had Hwoarang speak up softly, "You okay?"

"Yeah…"

"What're you looking at now?"

"…A picture… of Mum and I. I think I was ten…" Her green eyes looked harder, seeing the potency in the blue ones of her Mother, "Her eyes… are so strong… and so bright… They're unyielding. She didn't give up, not even at the end… The frame, the glass, the pic itself, none of it is damaged… Woah, there's another one…"

The smile faded. There was nothing on her face but a blank stare. A scowl appeared as she began to speak, "Family shot. Me, Mum, Dad. I was 5. I remember getting this done. It was when he started hitting me too."

"You gonna throw it out? Judging by your voice you don't like this surprise…"

"No. He may have been a fucking asshole, but he was still my Father."

"Okay."

"Why'd the pictures survive?" Razer asked nobody in particular, "I just found my parents' wedding photo."

"That's gotta be kinda cool…" Hwoarang replied, "To see your Mother in that pretty dress and all."

She nodded a little, with watery eyes, as though he was in the room speaking to her directly, "Yeah…"

The Korean could hear her voice waver, "Hey c'mon… it's okay."

The items were slowly beginning to pile up behind her. The 20-year-old Greek brushed a few leaking tears away with her gloved hands before picking up the next item in the box of wonders, "I know. But it's just hard."

* * *

"Then take it easy…" Hwoarang suggested, staring at the ceiling of his room, "Maybe you should stop."

"But I want to see everything…"

"Sure."

He could hear more rustling on the other end of the line and another inhalation, "I have no idea how this survived… It was Mum's favourite coat. It's like… really big… and a nice brown. Like your eyes actually."

He chuckled a little, "Try it on. It might fit you."

There was more rustling from her end then a cry of surprise, "Hey… it does."

"Nice."

"…It smells like her…"

The Blood Talon smiled sadly, even though she couldn't see it, and listened to her prattle on, "It really smells like her… She used to wear this whenever we went out, and it was really cold. Last time I wore it was when we were forced out to dinner about seven or so months before… the incident. It was huge on me."

More rustling and another sniffle, another shaky breath, "My drawing book… I used to draw you know…"

His eyebrows raised slightly, "Did you now?"

"Yeah… The edges are a little singed but otherwise it's all good. Hah, they're pretty crappy."

"They'd still be better than mine."

"Yeah. At least I don't draw _stick figures_."

An honest smile, "Shut up."

"Hah!"

"What?"

He heard a musical noise come from the other line. She spoke with a grin, "It's my Dad's harmonica."

"Ah…"

Another sniffling sigh and a little more rustling, "It's my birth cross. It's tiny."

"Well you were a baby once…"

"So were you. You still are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hwoarang growled jokingly.

"Nothing, my angel," Came the innocent response through a wavering voice.

He smiled again, rolling onto his right side, "Anything else in there…?"

"Yeah, one more thing. A letter. It's not burnt or crushed or anything…" A little more rustling and a pause, "Its one page… And I think it was given to Angela before anything happened… Hold on, let me read out loud."

"Don't… It's personal. I'm not your real family."

"You're all I have, and for God's sake you sat in the same room as me when I was having a shower."

A slight grin, "You asked me to."

"All that does is show you how much I trust and love you."

"Alright… If you want to read it to me, read it to me…"

"It's in Greek so I might be a little slow in translating. Anyway here we go:

'_To my dearest daughter,_

_If you are reading this then that means that I have passed on. I am sorry I left you alone in this world… But just because I'm not here physically doesn't mean I'm not still with you. There is so much I still wish to tell you, but there was no time to tell it. This is what this letter is about, as well as what I have tried to set up for you._

_First and foremost, with me gone, you may encounter something within you, like a curse or a gift. Do not fear it. Utilise it for your gain. Control her. I did neither of these, I was too afraid to, and as a price, I am now dead. She is not there to torment you, or at least she shouldn't be._

_Secondly, throughout the years since I met your Father, I had been putting aside five dollars a week (yes, I know it is not much… But remember he used to check what I spent) for myself, so whenever I managed to pluck up the courage and leave him, I would have something. When you were born, I gave up on myself and decided to keep the money aside for you in case you needed it one day. I wonder how much it has now accumulated to'. _Hey you are good at Maths, what's that make it?"

Hwoarang paused and sighed, looking for a calculator on the table to his right, while trying to do the Maths in his head. He eventually found a calculator and had a look, still lying on his right side, then spoke, "…Raze? Five bucks a week totals to two hundred and sixty a year. How long did your parents know each other?"

"Fifteen years."

Another pause. He stared at the figure, "…Your Mother saved three thousand, nine hundred bucks."

"…I have money?"

"Oh yeah. Not a lot, but you've got enough money to start living properly again."

"I'm taking you with me."

He put the calculator back on the table, "Don't. You'd be struggling then."

"You took me with you from the orphanage when they wanted to separate us. They were going to make you get a job and live by yourself, and they were going to give me to a _Greek _family, _away _from Seoul, more in the country side. You still took me when you ran, though _you knew _it'd be hard and that you were being selfish. It may have been a shit life but I couldn't ask for a better person to look after me. I don't care about the others, I don't care if I never see Steve or Midget or _Kazama _ever again, but there's no way I'd be living if you weren't with me… I need you, Hwoarang. More than anything on this fucking Earth."

The 21-year-old noticed she said 'Kazama' rather than 'Jin'. He ignored it, smiling uncontrollably, his cheeks hurting, finding himself running the rocket pendant through his fingers. He really wished he was there with Razer now, helping her with the pain, but more so to see the look on her face when she said that, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

"Stop that!"

He laughed, "You love it."

"I'm just gonna keep reading:

'_Thirdly, I have included in my will that you inherit everything that belongs to me, that is, if such items survive or are not sold. I truly hope that such items remain. According to my Parents' will, I will inherit their house, but because I am now dead, you should be receiving it upon their passing.' _I HAVE A HOUSE!!"

"Yay!"

"…Shit. Bills."

"Win the 5th Tournament, whenever it pops up, and pay for them that way."

"Win it for me."

"I'll see what I can do."

"You know what is scary?"

"What's scary?"

"…She was right."

"As in… the creature?"

"Yeah. When I visited Seong-Hada with Steve, she said there was a possibility I might have this stuff."

"Pat her on the head for me?"

"She says that we owe her one."

Hwoarang rubbed his eyes, "Right…"

"Last part of the letter:

'_Lastly, I love you, more than anything, and I always will. You are my pride and joy, Razer. I couldn't have asked for a better child. You keep me happy and flying high, even through the times of despair. Thank you for everything you have ever done. Thank you for being my hope and inspiration. Thank you for just being you._

_I will see you again one day, way into the future. And remember, always fight to live. Never give up._

_With love, your Mother, Victoria Athane.'_"

"…She's right you know."

* * *

"What do you mean…?" A teary Razer inquired, moving her old things out of the way, lying on her left side.

She pulled the phone up to her ear, resting it on the pillow next to her, "You've got this… happy feeling around you. All the time. Don't scowl at me, I know you are, and don't pull the whole 'but I apparently attempted to commit suicide, what sense is there in that' thing. Deep down you've got this happy feeling… And… it's always made me happy. It has always picked me up when I'm down, too. So… thanks."

"I love you…"

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

"BITCH!"

She smiled, wiping away the dry tears on her cheeks, "I guess you, me and SH can come here to live."

"Remember what Baek always said? 'Whenever God closes a door, he opens a window'? Aside from the fact that we always used to laugh at it, I'd say this is a prime example of exactly what he meant. The house burnt down, so what? We got one in the Greek mountains now."

"I guess you'd better start learning Greek then, and fast."

"Hey, you didn't learn Korean!"

"I know enough."

A mocking, joking tone, "Well so do I!"

After a slight chuckle, there was nothing but soft breathing and a whisper, "I wish you were here…"

"Same… But… I have to go now… My break time from training is almost over."

She frowned a little, but it didn't last long. The smile swallowed it, "Okay…"

"I'll try calling again some time. Any idea how long you're staying?"

"Until I have slain my demon."

"So no."

"Yeah."

She could hear a smile, "Take care, my angel."

"You too, my angel. Enjoy your portraits of memories. The good ones."

Razer smiled, hanging up thereafter the dial tone, one thought going through her head, drifting into sleep.

_It was you. It was always supposed to be you._


	7. Pick The Pieces Up

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Seven: Pick The Pieces Up**_

Angela refused to allow Razer to leave until she had downed at least three slices of the pizza. She only had one and a half and the 20-year-old was apparently 'full'. The elderly woman had seen a lot in her life, but she had never seen a slightly still-growing individual, a prized fighter, be so thin and not so hungry.

"**What the hell did you eat for the last eight years of your life?**" She had asked, bewildered.

"**Not a lot, I can definitely say that… At least when I was at the Tournaments I was well fed. Otherwise I was starving most of the time, despite the food Hwo took off his own plate to give me.**"

"**What a sweet boy…**" A quiet 'hmmmm' greeted her. Angela had watched as the young woman across from her span a silver ring around her finger continuously, almost nervously, as she had tried eating some more of the food before her, "**From what you have told me so far… your Mother would have loved him.**"

She smiled as Storm Wind blushed. About after an hour of more catching up (one of the events being the revelation that Razer actually managed to find a _true_ Father figure in her absence) and giving up on having Razer eat anymore food than she had already downed (she got to two), Angela walked outside with her ex-neighbour, hearing her say that she wanted to actually check out the house itself.

With her cane in hand, she had walked along side her slowly, watching as her green eyes darted around the place, looking at the destruction, her hands firmly planted within her pockets. She had walked past the crucifixes and around the premises, and then had gone back inside. The tears that were bordering the rims of her eyes barely came. Little doses, Angela had believed, was what Athane was pitching for. Little doses of the past.

The first two weeks went by swiftly, and everyday Razer would go out to her old home and walk around, looking. By the middle of the second week, she had managed to sit next to the remains of her home, and for the first time in almost forever, draw in her book. She just drew what she saw – the wreckage, the crucifixes…

Just being there made her feel happy. Yes, it was a terrible past, there were so many terrible events, and for God's sake, everything she had ever known died here in one night… but she felt so much happier being there. Whenever she walked into the place, she couldn't help but smile. It was infectious, and she was beginning to believe that her Mother's spirit was still around here, and that she was waiting for her to come home. It was the same feeling she got whenever Razer went into the old dojang, where Baek had died, only much stronger.

But it wasn't all she did. Angela had called around a few places for her and found a gym for her to train in. Being a fighter, she understood that the 20-year-old Greek required a gym to train in, to practice and strengthen her technique. As she knitted pointless clothes on her couch, watching her daily soap operas, the elderly woman wondered if she practiced her Mother's Style. She knew Victoria was self-taught in her martial art.

According to Razer's recounts, the people in the gym had followed her, had come to watch her, and asked her continuously if she would participate in the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5, to which she answered yes. She had taken aboard Hwoarang's suggestion of earning the prize money and using it to start their new life, though Angela was not aware of this. All the woman did was smile up at her through her glasses and tell her that dinner would be ready at seven.

It was like looking after the little Razer again, with her timid little 'thank you' and the shy smile.

Two or three times in these past two weeks, Angela passed by the guest room to hear either some slight sobbing laced with slight laughter. She realised she must have been on the phone at those times, chatting away to most probably Hwoarang or one of her other friends… Maybe other tournament friends.

During these two weeks, the young Greek had discovered that Forrest had been in a motorbike accident on Paul's bike. Mrs Law had scrolled through Forrest's phone contacts, texting or calling people about it, just so they knew he wouldn't be able to contact him for a while. She had been the recipient of a call, and it made her frown. Forrest was there a lot for her during the last two years. She wished she could go to America and see him.

As the next two weeks passed however, Razer found that the calls from Hwoarang were becoming less frequent. She knew why, so it was okay. All she managed to do in between was train some more, draw some more, and pick the pieces of her shattered past up. In this time, Angela had managed to gently tell her that her grandparents, on both sides of the family, had passed on, the last one being Victoria's Mum two years back.

According to Angela, she was in tears for many weeks when she saw Razer at the 3rd King Of Iron Fist Tournament, for it was the first time she had seen her since her disappearance. She had never been so happy apparently. But now that she had passed on, the house was now Razer's to own, but when Angela suggested going to see it, she opted against it, for now.

Still, no matter how happy she managed to slowly become, she was pulled back down by force…

She knew why.

* * *

He strained to roll over, still feeling the dull ache in his back and his head. It was a common feeling now.

Jin's eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. Each tick was like a hammer through his head, like a hang over, not that he had ever experienced one… However from what others had told him before, this was the feeling associated with it. Ache, a throbbing head, the taste of vomit in the back of your throat –

Good morning.

_What is so good about it…?_

Why, everything. There is no sun, it is dark outside, I feel… refreshed, and you are in _pain_.

He groaned angrily and tried to sit up, only to cause more pain in his back, causing dry blood to crack. He hissed in pain and rubbed his face with his hands, his blood shot brown eyes staring at the carpet a little in front of him. He could still feel his muscles ache and his head scream.

_Pain is nothing new…_

I wish you were in _more _pain so I could be freed again…

Jin could feel the dark hands of the Devil gripping every inch of him, constricting him tightly, desperate to have him pass out again so he could have total control and wreak havoc in this place again. He was so much easier to control these last two weeks, and he understood why. Devil was _so _glad for it.

You should distance yourself from the people you love and care about more often, monster.

_Go away… _He croaked despairingly, too exhausted to even bring his shaking hands to his throbbing head.

Do you like being forever alone? With no one to hold you and to say that you are safe? I certainly do.

_Leave me alone… _Kazama replied in a whisper, feeling the vomit linger at the back of his throat again.

You cannot even begin to pick the pieces up yet of your fucked up life. Disgusting!

_Because you stop me from doing so… _Was the response, along with an unpleasant swallow.

All you have now are your memories…

The phantom grip that was around his throat and his head tightened severely. His vision began to blur, he began to see colours that would suggest that he'd pass out soon. He fell to the floor, resting his forehead on the carpet, managing to have his hands crawl to his head, silently crying, whimpering, despairing.

…And they will pain you as you live your pathetic, mortal existence forever alone.

"_I can think of a dozen ideas of why I should be dead."_

"_And I can think of a hundred reasons to keep you living."_

"_Name them."_

"_Keep your friends company, keep fighting the gene with me, another unique mind in the premises, sparring partner, keep Hwoarang happy…"_

"_That's only five."_

"_Keep me happy."_

"_That doesn't count. That fits under the 'creating joy' category. Another ninety five to go, Kazama."_

Jin could not see the pictures that he knew came with the small conversation that caused his lips to upturn into a very slight smile. Though he could not see the setting, though he could not see anything, he could hear his own voice and Razer's voice from two years ago at the 3rd Tournament as clear as ever, even though everything else at the moment was becoming incredibly hazy.

Happy… She was the only one that kept him happy. Xiaoyu made him happy too, but… God…

That woman was amazing, and you let her go because you were afraid I would murder her. A shame…

He could hear Razer's scream rip through his spinning head, causing him to scream out in total fear as well, fear of losing her, even though they were not together anymore. Even though they were not together anymore… She still meant everything to him… almost as much as his Mother –

Another scream, the Greek's and Xiaoyu's this time. His nails dug into his head, a choked sob arriving.

It was that lapse in attempted strength, that revelation of fear, that was all the devil within required to commence seizing total control of his host's body again. It had only been a few hours, the time being late morning, and Devil was already excited for more destruction, more destruction in the forests of Yakushima.

_Stop… Stop this… Oh God… No… Stop… Enough! Please…_

* * *

'_Help…'_

She opened her eyes, staring straight into the punching bag. She turned her head to the left a little, trying to find the source of Kazama's voice, listening closely. It was a whimper, it was so afraid… she almost cried for him. Though Razer was falling for Hwoarang again (which would have to stop and soon, because whenever he returned from the army, he would start his relationship with Miharu), she still immensely cared for Jin…

Even if he did break her heart… for whatever the true reason was.

The 20-year-old Greek silenced her mind, trying to block out the other plea for assistance, and focused back on the punching bag, slamming her fists and feet into it with all her might. She fought against everything within her to not reply. She couldn't reply. She was still angry with him for what he had done.

Still, she needed to move on and continue picking the pieces up. He needed to as well, and fast.

And even now, Razer was doing a good job for herself. She could actually speak about what happened at home without breaking down into tears. That was a big step for such a short time. Hell, it was only two weeks. How fast would the next two go, if she decided to remain here? What would these two weeks provide?

"**And now to more recent and stunning news in the world of sports. Despite Heihachi Mishima's death a mere two weeks ago, there has been a 5****th**** King Of Iron Fist Tournament announced.**"

Athane's head snapped to the television that was sitting in the far back corner, "_Already?_ Not again…"

"**It has been decided that the 5****th**** Tournament will be held in the same place as these last tournaments. All 3****rd**** and 4****th**** Tournament participants have automatically been accepted to the 5****th****. This is because their skills have already been proven. Those whose final tournament were either the 1****st**** or 2****nd**** Tournaments must qualify once more to prove their skills against new competitors.**"

"**Nice job Razer!**" One of the instructors called, his head snapping from the television to her, smiling.

She growled lowly, her eyes flicking from the guy back to the television, "**Whatever…**"

"**The King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5 will be held in six weeks time. Good luck, participants!**"

Her phone went off, though it was not a call. She wandered over, wiping sweat from her face:

'_did you hear? omg!'_

'_yeah i did steve, u going?'_

'_hell yeah. i got a bone 2 pick with the zaibatsu. r u?'_

'_fuck yeah. hwo'll be out by then 2. gr8!'_

'_i wonder if the others will b there.'_

'_probably'_

What is your reason this time?

Razer decided she had trained enough, and sat down next to her bag, grabbing a towel, wiping her arms and face down. She grinned, _Get more money to start a new life for Hwoarang, Seong-Hada and I, obviously._

What else? I know there is more.

_To see my friends. I want to see my friends._

Anything else?

She swallowed water, _I… want to make sure Kazama's alright._

Wow. You do care. And?

_To… finish picking up the pieces._

You do not need to go there to pick remainder of the pieces up, Athane.

…_I… don't…?_

No. Would you like me to tell you what your problem is?

As Razer grabbed her things and headed out, she could hear the creature's words ring through her head.

You have not released the past. That is the key to absolution.


	8. Getting It Right

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Eight: Getting It Right**_

"**Well whoever had told you this was correct. Why do you ask?**" Angela inquired, looking at her.

Athane scratched the back of her head and spoke over the noise, "**Just… I just… Well… No reason.**"

_It never occurred to me that forgiveness was achieved through accepting it and letting it go._

That is because your mind is feeble and weak, mortal. I suppose at least you are now getting it right.

"**You've put on weight,**" The elderly woman stated a matter-of-factly, with a smile, "**Or muscle…**"

"**I guess I have…**" Came the hesitant reply, after checking herself, realising that she was correct.

Angela met her green eyes with her aged brown ones, "**That is good. You look rather healthy now.**"

Razer folded her arms, tapping her arm with her fingers continuously, "**Well I guess I have to thank you for stuffing me with food and making sure I go train every day for the last five weeks, don't I…?**"

"**Then you will have to win, or at least do really well in the 5****th**** Tournament as thanks.**"

"**I'm not paying you,**" She joked, "**For your kind hospitality or the plane ticket back to England.**"

"**Except with a visit once you have completed it. Bring Hwoarang with you.**"

"**Like he has a choice in where he goes anymore anyway. He, my friend and I will be moving into the house Mum left me after it is finished… We have no where else to go. It's gonna be hard but… worth it. I am glad I decided to return home.**"

"**You are a different person since you got here. You're not swearing as much,**" Angela joked.

The 20-year-old Greek strained to hear the announcement that the plane for England would be leaving soon. Once it was over, she turned back to the elderly woman and smiled, her back pack on her back, her items from home in a simple bag hung over one of her shoulders, "**Thank you for everything. I'll take your advice and try to accept what happened at home and move on. I have lived it for long enough.**"

"**Good girl. Now, get on that plane, okay?**"

Razer nodded, waving good bye, turning away from Angela, busy texting Steve of her coming return.

* * *

"Five weeks is a pretty long time. Reckon she would've changed much?" Fox inquired, bouncing his leg.

Seong-Hada scoffed, and rested his hands behind his head, leaning against a wall, "Hey, she was gone for a month at the 3rd Tournament, and she was a different person when she got back. Something'll have changed."

Steve nodded, brushing his blonde hair away from his face, "Are you going to the tournament too?"

"I have no where else to go… I may as well follow my family," He grinned, "I'm not fighting though. No."

The Brit's phone went off in his pocket. He pulled it from his red pants and observed the text:

'_landed, god that was long… i could c u from the plane. lol!'_

'_o ha ha ha urself. where r u?'_

The 21-year-old was in the main foyer of the London Airport now, keeping a sharp look out for that light brown hair, wondering exactly what part of her would be different, and exactly how different it would be. He hoped she wouldn't be more introverted as Hwoarang had warned.

A young Korean boy followed his every move, his hands in his dark blue jeans, also keeping an eye out for the girl he had known for four or five years now. A smile came to his face when he saw her busy texting away to Steve, most probably giving her location. Seong-Hada shouted out, "Raze!"

Her head shot up. A smile appeared on her face as she ran over in a hurry, "Hey guys!"

She enveloped them both in one armed hugs and then released them thereafter, still careful with her box of wonders. Both men looked her over, noticing she was definitely different in her attitude. She was… happy? Positive outlook, perhaps? _Something _happy anyway… Well that was unlike her.

"You put on weight," SH stated blankly.

"Yeah, the lady I was staying with was my next door neighbour when I was little. She fed me and made sure I trained," She eyed her Korean friend, "SH, you put on weight too. Steve, what've you been feeding him?"

Fox put his hands up defensively, "It wasn't me, it was my Aunt. Kept saying he needed his strength."

Seong-Hada continued observing the Greek across from him, "Your hair grew longer."

"So have your fingernails," She retorted lazily, picking out something just as feeble and random.

"It's nice… Maybe you should dye a bit of it or something and make it even cooler."

"Maybe you should paint your fingernails while we're at this game…" Athane replied, her back stinging still.

Excellent reply, the creature within quipped, chuckling.

The 19-year-old stuck his tongue out before turning to his English friend, "So, where to now? Back home?"

Steve smiled and cracked his fingers, "Sounds good to me. Razer, do you want me to take your bags?"

He watched as she tightened her grip on the one around her shoulder protectively, "Nah, I'm alright."

He nodded and began to walk out, leading his two friends, "Okay. Well come on, in the car you two."

The Korean and the Greek followed the Brit to his car and hopped in the back. The 21-year-old turned the key in the ignition and began to drive back to his home, speaking to his fellow King Of Iron Fist participant directly five minutes after leaving, "What do you think the 5th Tournament will be like without Heihachi?"

"Different. And I don't care. He deserves what he got."

"How can you say that?" Seong-Hada asked, "He was just a weak, old, rich man who didn't have long."

"If only you two knew," She replied sadly, shaking her head, looking at her boots.

Fox sighed and focused his attention back on the road, hearing the two chatter in the back. A particularly hot topic was the snow. The 19-year-old Korean was glad to be around snow again, whilst the 20-year-old Greek was slightly apprehensive about it, though it was for a good reason. Whenever it snowed back home when Baek was around, somehow, she was always conned into a snowball fight by Hwoarang.

"Any word from Hwo?" SH inquired.

_Fucking brain… _"Not from my end for about six days."

"We haven't heard from him for about a week and a half or so."

"Well… he'll be out soon."

Steve noticed that for the umpteenth time since the little reunion, she had fidgeted in an attempt to get her back more comfortable. He noticed and called out, "Raze, are you okay? Something wrong with your back?"

"No," She replied quickly.

He noticed the slight grin on her face and smiled too, shrugging, "Okay."

* * *

"Welcome back deary," Miss Fox sounded, squeezing Athane's form tightly in a hug.

The Greek had clenched teeth, wishing she'd at least lighten up. She patted Amy's back, "Thank you."

The bone-crunching act of affection was _finally _released. Razer breathed in the saccharine air and smiled, summoning all of her inner strength to stop from scowling at her menacingly (though knowing she meant well) or yelling something insulting or sarcastic, such as 'Steve, stop training your Aunt, she's _way _too strong'.

Miss Fox ran back into Steve's house, "Come on you three, I was just about to set dinner on the table."

"Amy, you don't have to do this," Steve quipped, closing the door behind him, watching Razer and Seong-Hada walk in before him like children, "You've been like a maid. Go home and get yourself some earned rest."

"It's nothing, love. I want to help you lot. Besides, I'm going to miss this little boy when he goes!"

Razer did everything within her power to suppress a laugh, thinking about how her lover, whoever he was, managed to cope with her. Seong-Hada however, did chuckle, though it was half muffled. Steve's icy blue eyes shot warning glares at them both before he looked back to his Aunt, smiling sweetly, "What's for dinner?"

* * *

Dinner had been roasted beef with baked vegetables and gravy, though when the two foreigners tried the gravy, they instantly regretted it, but tried to be polite and eat at least some of it. After this meal, Miss Fox had given them all ice cream (to which Razer was particularly appreciative to) and sat around watching 'Doctor Who' (with David Tennant, which prompted all women in here to swoon) on the television for the forty-five minutes.

By the time the show finished, it was around 9:30pm. Steve and his Aunt were attempting to show Seong-Hada how to play the Poker card game. They had offered to show the 20-year-old Greek, however she opted against it, not willing to embarrass herself as her Korean counterpart was at the moment.

"This game is confusing me…" Seong-Hada said slowly and anxiously, scratching his dark blue hair.

"How can it be?" Amy inquired, leaning back on her simple wooden stool, "It is so simple to understand."

"Just… Wait! I - …Um… Shit!!"

Steve leant to the side, peering at his cards, "What's the problem, mate?"

The Korean pulled the cards up this chest defensively, "Don't look! That's cheating! …Right?"

"Yes Seong-Hada, you are very right," Miss Fox glared daggers at her adoptive nephew until he gave up.

Razer's interest in the game had been lost about ten minutes in. She roughly knew the game's idea, because she used to watch her Father sometimes (before he began to become abusive towards her), whenever he had his drunk buddies over. She surprised herself that she could remember enough of it, though.

Her eyes were closed and the base of her skull was resting on the top of the lounge. Her arms were folded and there was a smile on her face. This was a nice family, though it was small, and two of them were only friends. It was a nice little family, and it was quite comforting, considering both she and Seong-Hada had lost four members of their gang, four friends in one night.

And then, a sensation she hadn't felt in six days… Her phone vibrating against her thigh. In an instant, her eyes flew open, baring her forest green eyes to all. The smile was still on her face as she shoved her hand into her pocket, withdrawing her crappy, 5-year-old cellphone. Only one person would be ringing her now, "Hello?"

"Boo."

"Shock! Horror!" Athane replied with fake surprise, smiling honestly when he chuckled heartily, rising from the lounge, heading up to her temporary room, where everything she had brought from the 4th Tournament and home now resided. She tied her hair back into a simple ponytail, "And how are you?"

"I'm good now," Hwoarang replied tiredly. There was evidence of a smile in his voice, "And you, babe?"

"Good. I came back from home today."

"Nice… Did you hear about the 5th Tournament?"

"Yeah I did. Are you going?"

"Yeah. I get out the day before it starts. I probably won't be able to get out there until the day though."

"Oh… Well Steve and I are going too. SH's coming along but not to fight. He is still a bit weak."

"Shit happens. I mean, like, I left my fucking MP3 player at the 4th Tournament."

"It's in your bag. I have got it, along with your other stuff, so don't worry."

"Oh, I love you. I was getting worried someone was gonna steal it… Maybe put it on eBay or something."

"Or all your stuff. I can just see it now. 'Hwoarang's Boxers, An Iron Fist Participant – 200 Dollars'."

"You'd be the first bidder."

She scowled jokingly, though he could not see it, "I am going to have to slap you for that one."

"Good luck finding me when I get to the tournament. I'll -"

She finished for him, rolling her eyes, "- be where you least suspect it."

"Fuck you and your 'knowing-me-so-well' skills…"

A yawn on the other side of the line prompted Razer to unhappily yawn as well, "Aw, you sleepy?"

"Look whose talking…"

A smirk. She took her shoes off and turned off the light in her room, "Then hang up and go to sleep."

"I don't wanna hang up. _You_ hang up and go to sleep."

"No…" The Greek replied, lying down on her bed.

"I'm not hanging up until you hang up."

"Well I'm not hanging up until you hang up."

"Bitch…"

"You wouldn't have it any other way."

"Yeah…" He paused for a bit, "We sound like an old couple, you know."

"Tch…"

"I'm surprised you're letting me get away with it, what with Kazama in your life and all…" There was a small sound of astonishment when Razer put forth a dismissal noise. He asked her curiously, "…What was that for?"

"It doesn't matter."

Of course whenever she said that, Hwoarang knew it did matter, "You can tell me."

"I am too tired. It's like, ten at night here…"

"Well la-dee-freaking-dah. You're telling me at the 5th Tournament, understand?"

"You can't make me," Athane retorted, spinning his ring around her finger. It had become a habit.

"No, but I can tickle you until you do."

"Very funny, Red…" She covered her mouth and yawned again, "Can you just hurry and hang up now?"

"Like I said, I'm not hanging up until you hang up."

"I guess I'll have to go to sleep with the phone next to my ear then."

"Well then I'll guess I'll have to do likewise."

"Aaaand it is going to cost you a fortune."

"I'll just take the money off of you."

"You wouldn't do that. No way."

"Yeah I wouldn't unfortunately…"

A slight grin as she closed her eyes, yawning again, "I miss you…"

"Same."

She barely managed to hear him say 'I love you' before she drifted to sleep, hearing nothing but his breathing come through the phone in this state. It was almost like she was with him again, lying next to him.

Such a time was a week away. Things were alright now.


	9. An Angel By My Side

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Nine: An Angel By My Side**_

"_Hwo…?"_

_There was a groggy response from the other end, "You're awake."_

_Razer rubbed her eyes, "How long have you been up for…?"_

"_About ten minutes."_

"_And you didn't hang up…"_

"_We went through that last night, Raze. Besides…" He cleared his throat, trying to talk better, still sounding hoarse nonetheless, and continued, "I've always liked watching you sleep… Or in this case, hearing you sleep."_

"_Well, you're not just a pretty face, are you, you little Romeo?"_

"_Nope, I have a sexy ass too."_

"_Will you drop the ass thing?"_

"_You started it, all those years ago… Hey remember that superior with super hearing? He's coming. I gotta go."_

"_Okay."_

"_Love you."_

"_Love you too."_

"_Love you more."_

"_I hope you get caught…"_

"_No, you don't hope I get caught," Click_.

* * *

That was a week ago, and this was now… Standing at the back of the group of King Of Iron Fist participants whom were awaiting instructions on this tournament. Steve had wandered off to find Christie and the others, and bring them over. Seong-Hada was checking out the ladies, as he would normally, and was standing along side Razer, whose green eyes were perilously scanning for Hwoarang, and whose mind was searching for Kazama.

She could sense Jin near, but he was hiding himself away from her completely. He was at the tournament, as she expected, and was feeling things she knew he'd be feeling… Alone, angry, upset and afraid. _Very_ afraid.

The creature within also identified Kazuya, as did her green eyes. He was coming towards her now with an arrogant smirk on his face, dressed in a… _purple… _tuxedo. Before he even managed to greet her, or taunt her as he had done so often in the last tournament, Athane had already had a crack at him, "Why _purple_, Kazuya? Purple is a gay colour."

"Razer, Hwo used to wear a purple shirt, remember?" SH whispered.

"And I used to make fun of him about it, remember?" She replied quietly.

The younger Mishima disregarded her taunting comment and crossed his arms smugly, his brown and red eye peering down on her menacingly, "Greetings Miss Athane. How does it feel to return to the place of your most recent undoing? What have you been up to these past two months?"

"And why do you care?" She inquired, her glare matching his own.

"You may find this difficult to comprehend but I care about your well being."

"And that would be why you attempted to steal my 'problem' for yourself?"

"No. My Father wanted you for that particular reason… That is why I showed you what you are not."

"What, and led me to believe that I'm probably something _worse_?"

"Whatever you are… whatever she is, Miss Athane, it is not worse. It is just… different. Trust me."

'_Get away…'_

Razer looked away with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed, "I see my idiot son is attempting to contact you."

She scowled at him, daring him to continue on his little insult, "Yes he is. Any other comments?"

"Just one…"

His eyes darted from Seong-Hada, who was watching him very cautiously and thoughtfully, and returned to Razer's. He bent over to her level, his mouth near her ear, and whispered darkly, "Enjoy being forever alone."

"So you know…" She whispered back, her eyes narrowed as he moved away from her.

'_Yes. And I must say… it is about time. You deserve much better than that_ monster._'_

'_He may be lots of things… But that's not one of them…'_

'_Do not let your love blind you, Miss Athane,'_ He retorted blankly, walking away.

Razer scowled, crossing her arms, looking down, _But I still need him with me. And that's why I am here._

"Everything alright in that head of yours?" Seong-Hada inquired, tapping his temple for an effect.

"Yeah," She looked up and scanned for him, calling out for him, _'Kazama, please come out of hiding.'_

There was no response.

'_I know you are afraid. But if it is of me, you shouldn't be.'_

Still no response. Nothing but a dull chuckle in her mind which she knew was her creature.

'_Kazama… C'mon.'_

'…_Stay away from me…'_

'_Hey…?'_

There was no other response other than that, even though she stood there for about five minutes trying to get him to speak again. With an agitated huff, the 20-year-old looked up, resuming her search for Hwoarang just as a representative of the owner of the new Mishima Financial Empire, whoever that was, began to speak into the microphone before him.

The man cleared his throat, "Greetings participants. I hope you have all been well these past few months and have been training extra hard for the toughest competition that is on the planet! Any who, with new ownership, there has been one very major alteration to how the 5th Tournament will be run."

"Another fucking change," Razer mumbled to herself, earning a slight snicker from Seong-Hada.

The man appeared to be the one who had encountered Razer at the sign up for the 4th Tournament, "This change is that there will no longer be just the simple arena in which you battle in. There are now smaller arenas, fighting places, whatever you wish to call them, dispersed all over the areas. So for example, you could be fighting on a roof top or in a park…"

SH looked to Athane, "That sounds kinda cool."

"Sounds stupid to me."

"As a consequence of this, the spectators may only be the participant's family and closest friends, so no tag along fans unless the fighter specifies otherwise. We are sorry if this has caused some inconvenience…" The man looked amongst them all, obviously nervous in a situation such as this, "Finally, we have arranged a little get together dance tonight so all of you may catch up with your friends."

"A DANCE?! FUCK _OFF_!"

Razer looked to Seong-Hada on her left. He looked back. They were both grinning and said together, "Hwo."

"Pipe down there," The representative remarked, eyeing who the pair presumed to be Hwoarang, evilly. He looked back amongst the rest of the crowd, "You will find instructions on getting to the dance in your rooms. Now please, have a good stay, and fight to win. Good luck to you all." He turned to his left, walking off the stage.

As the crowd of fighters disbanded, a familiar individual lorded over the small Greek and the slightly-bigger Korean. The man's abnormally large, hairy and beastly fists clenched together, "Hey there, you little suicidal bitch. Didn't think I'd see you here again."

"I did not think I would see you here either, Gorilla."

Marduk scowled at her and crossed his arms, obviously ready to pick a fight, "Where's your little friends?"

"They're here. Don't know where yet. Haven't bothered looking," Short and to the point.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" He drawled, tapping his foot.

"I don't see a point in talking to monkeys stupider than humans, such as yourself, Gorilla."

The 28-year-old Australian laughed, "I said it before and I'll say it again… Talk like that's gonna get you into huuuuuuuuuuge trouble with me. Oh wait, it did, at the mall at the 4th Tournament! Haaaah… Serves you right."

"And then who got owned by two not-as-strong 21-year-olds in one throw and one kick?"

There was an eerie and tension-filled silence, aside from Seong-Hada's uncontrollable small fit of chuckles. It lessened in continuality once Craig's seemingly maniacal gaze turned to the 19-year-old lithe man, "What're _you _looking at, Stick?" An obvious reference to his build, at least compared to his own.

"A crazy man…"

Razer, who was standing directly next to him, nudged him with her foot and whispered, "Don't."

Marduk's smirk turned upside down into a disapproving glare. His entire body turned away from the 20-year-old Greek to the younger individual, his fist raising, about to punch, "And I'm looking at a very _dead_ man!"

Seong-Hada confidently remained rooted to the spot with his hands in his pockets as it was launched. Just as he suspected, the trained fighter to his right caught the fist and threw his arm back. Razer's forest green eyes narrowed, "You're 'beef' or whatever you crazy Aussies call it, is not with him. Leave him alone."

The Australian's eyes moved from Athane to over her head and past her. He saw a familiar man, the man he _lost _to in the last tournament, walking away, that stupid tail on his black outfit swishing side by side. Marduk looked one last time at the two before him, walked around them and ran after King, calling out after him, a dark grin on his face, just hoping to have him fight him there and now… _Then _they'd see who the better fighter was.

SH turned his head back to Razer, "What's that guy's name?"

"Marduk…"

"Why don't ya just call him 'Marjack', or 'King Kong'?"

"Can't be bothered. And besides, 'Gorilla' suits him _oh _so much better… You can call him Marjack, okay?"

He smiled, "Done."

They both turned their heads back to the few fighters that remained around. There were around five or six people Razer did not recognise. She recognised the sumo, however, and so did Seong-Hada. It was Ganryu, the guy who had lost to the Blood Talon two years ago in a hustle. Strange to remember someone so insignificant…

A little to their left, standing a fair distance away from the crowd with folded arms, closer to the pair of friends than the actual crowd was, was Hwoarang with his arms folded and a content smile on his familiar face.

It widened when Razer finally spotted him. She dropped everything on her person, all three bags, and sprinted over as fast as possible, weaving past a few passing people. Her own smile was plastered on her features as she watched him also run over to her. Yet another reunion…

And this time, there was nothing to separate them like this _ever_ again.

Then came an open space with no distractions, and the 20-year-old Greek jumped onto her best friend, her arms tightly around his neck, his own arms clutching her waist and back, her form in the air and being spun around affectionately. It was _her_ Hwoarang, with the long hair, the goggles, and that stupid grin on his face.

She had managed to crush her lips to his almost as needily as the current embrace. Whatever had motivated her to this extent even managed to push her further, having her tongue slip into his mouth and caress his own gently, causing a shock factor to immediately course through the 21-year-old's system.

The Blood Talon stopped spinning her and put her down, his hands still around her form, managing to pull away from her taste, albeit wanting more, knowing this'd be the only time he could acquire it 'legally' (for he had not seen Miharu yet) and stared into her green eyes with surprise, slightly breathless, "What the _hell_ was that?"

She smirked, seeing his own smirk set in after licking his lips, and waited for the follow up response.

"…'Cause I liked it."

With that the Greek was needily pulled into the same style kiss, only the dominance belonged to the Blood Talon. There was a fire she didn't know existed, or she assumed had been hidden. She felt his hands still hold her close, afraid to let go, so afraid to lose her again. Razer shivered involuntarily when there was pressure placed on her tongue from his, instead of the gentle rubbing that was there before. It felt like it was curled around –

It stopped.

Everything stopped. He had pulled away. The fucking bastard… A final kiss to the tip of her nose was it. Athane's eyes opened and stared at him with a slightly dumbfound expression, "Don't you have a _girlfriend_ now?"

"No. Haven't seen her yet," Hwoarang replied, resting his head on hers (which was on his shoulder), looking at her every so often when his sienna eyes weren't darting around, looking for that idiot Kazama… Strangely enough he wasn't anywhere in sight. He didn't see him in the crowd, and naturally assumed that perhaps the Japanese man was with his girlfriend, but the moment Marduk's extremely beastly form got out of the way, he saw no one but Seong-Hada accompanying her.

Her grip around his form tightened. So did his, "What, so when you see her next… its then 'official'?"

He stopped looking around and lifted his head, looking at her, "Yeah."

She smiled a little, staring straight back at him, into the depths of his eyes, "I love you."

He could see pain in her forest green eyes, and could feel it burning within himself also, "I love you too."

"I love you more."

"Bitch…" He growled, grinning, happy to have his angel by his side once again.

"You started that whole craze, so it is your fault."

Hwoarang suddenly let go of her and looked down on her, remembering something he had to do. The grin was still set on his face as he covered her eyes with both of his gloved hands, "No peeking whatsoever, okay?"

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Just trust me. Start walking."

Razer began to walk slowly, little steps, wondering what he was planning, what he was doing. She could hear his foot steps move from in front of her to behind her, indicating that he somehow managed to move and keep her eyes covered. She could smell Seong-Hada slowly approach too, unsure of what to do, figuring it was probably the best option. He was still a fair way away, but getting closer. With thanks to the creature within, she could also smell someone else… very familiar. Very familiar indeed. A scent she had not inhaled in many years.

The sudden strength of Hwoarang's arms over her eyes forced her to stop moving, "Stop here?"

"Yeah. I found someone in the army that I thought you'd be very, very, very happy to see…" He took his hands away and took large step back, putting his hands back into his pockets, awaiting the Greek's reaction.

Athane's green eyes opened, the new revelation of light bugging the hell out of her. She had kept them closed simply for the fact of wanting to add to the surprise, whatever it may have been. It certainly did the trick as she stared blankly at a man in a gold-ish coloured suit, tapping the same coloured hat against his leg, smiling.

She couldn't believe it. She wanted to, but couldn't. This couldn't be right… Or could it?

Razer moved away, blinking, clearly shocked, eventually stopping when she felt her back come into contact with Hwoarang's chest. That's it. This was all a dream. She must've been in a coma for the last few months when the creature, or devil, whatever, within threw her off the church. She'd been dreaming her life, her wanted, perfect-but-imperfect-and-in-need-of-fixing life, for these past however-many months… The 4th Tournament hadn't occurred. She was still waiting for Hwoarang to come home… and Jin was _dead. _Right…?

She finally managed to look away from the man and back to the Blood Talon, who was grinning down on her. It seemed that he had managed to read her thoughts by the simple look on her face, "Not a dream, Raze."

The 20-year-old focused her attention back on the man and smiled whole-heartedly, "Baek…"

"Hello there, Razer," Baek replied, also smiling back.

_Little steps forward, just little steps, like you did back home… Everything's coming back to you…_

Almost everything. Keep in mind who and what you have also lost.

The little steps finally got her across the distance, the measly three metre distance, and into a gentle embrace from her mentor which was returned… The same mentor, the same teacher, the one that abandoned them, or more likely, went missing all that time ago and forced his two homeless students to live on the streets.

"Where did you go…?" She asked a tad miserably in a child-like voice, pulling away from and releasing him.

When Hwoarang joined her, hugging her from behind again, resting his chin at the top of her shoulder, did Baek's smile widen. It was just like when they were little. He breathed in and crossed his arms, looking at them both and spoke only loud enough for them to hear, "When you two were gone, a creature by the name of Ogre came to the dojang and attacked me. I woke up later in a hospital and had been informed that I was in a coma for a year… I was then forced to work for the military for all this time. They just let me go."

Ogre. You see? The God Of Fighting took more from you than you realised… First he took your precious mentor, the Father you wished you had, then your dear boyfriend – oh wait. _Ex_-boyfriend. All I can wonder is how many other lives this beast ruptured with its uncontrollable desire for pure power.

"Ouch," The Blood Talon's bland comment brought her back from her thoughts and inner conflicts, "You know, maybe if you didn't send us to that Story Of The Year concert, we would've been able to help you fight."

"Even with my best students fighting with me, the beast could not have been beaten. You both would have been killed. Besides, you both deserved your reward for getting all your belts. I thought it was nice surprise."

"Still…"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Hwoarang. I am here. You are here. Razer is here. And we are all well."

"You don't know what it did to us," He finally said, looking at the elder Korean in the eyes.

"**But I do. I… watched you both fight in both Tournaments. You fought so well…**"

"**It was hard. It was so hard.**"

"**But you both did so well.**"

"**That's not what I fucking meant and you know it!**" The younger Korean yelled, almost screaming each and every word. He looked away from Doo San and let go of Razer, half turning away, "**It was so fucking hard without you!**" An agitated sigh and a slight pause, "**Look… I'm glad your back, but you know I got into the army too, two years ago. So what took you so fucking long to tell me you were there?!**"

Razer finally spoke up, looking over her shoulder, glaring at the Blood Talon, "**Stop it…**"

He responded immediately, as fast as the whisper came, not looking at Baek. Only her, "Sorry."

A slight smile. She looked past him and pointed behind him, "Look who is here."

Hwoarang looked over his shoulder. All anger at the 48-year-old Tae Kwon Do teacher dissipated when he saw the little Japanese girl standing there timidly between Ling Xiaoyu and Panda, waiting for him to stop yelling so they could come over and say hello. He smiled and looked back to Razer, "See you later, my angel."

With that he ran over to her. Athane couldn't watch.

Baek folded his arms, still tapping his hat against his form, "I am surprised you two are not together."

"Pssh…"

"Well tell me one reason why it is farfetched," Came the challenge.

She shook her head, "It is irrelevant now."

More like it is _everything_.

Doo San unknowingly agreed with the creature within, "I do not believe that but if you say so…"

Razer put on a façade to her emotions and attempted to be upbeat and happy, waving over the neglected 19-year-old Korean, "Anyway let's drop that. This guy over here is Seong-Hada. He was one of the orphans we found after what happened to you… He was the first one actually. And now he's the only one. Hwo and I see him as our little brother… Just like we see you as our Father. SH, this is Baek."

Baek stuck his hand out and smiled, watching as his students' friend grabbed it and shook it firmly, "Hello."

"Hi. Nice to meet you," Seong-Hada replied warmly, holding all three bags with difficulty.

The 20-year-old took both her bags off of him and put them back on herself, "And that's that."

SH let go of Doo San's hand and looked over to Hwoarang who had just kissed some girl on the forehead affectionately. He noticed the 48-year-old Korean also looking that way, and how the Greek made every effort to _not _look in that direction. He cleared his throat, "Should we wait for him, go over or just go?"

"I don't know about you two… But I'm going. I have a lot of luggage," A poor excuse, but nonetheless…

The two Koreans smirked as she left, knowing the underlying reason, but allowed her to go anyway.

You should be happy. Why are you sad?

_Because I'm missing an angel by my side… _Kazama being the angel.

Sure. Keep telling yourself that. More like 'oh I wish I was Miharu, I really do!'

_You do a very bad impression of me and no that's not what I was thinking at all._

Then please tell why you are spinning his ring around your finger fretfully…


	10. Nobody

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

Author's Note: This is more of a talky chapter... Aaaaaaand yeah… Watch the stuff decline from here on in. Quality starts crapp-a-fying here, but it gets worse starting the next chapter. I've touched them up as much as I can. So, here you guys go.

_**Chapter Ten: Nobody**_

"**I thought you thought that the dance was stupid? Don't lie, we all heard you yell it out earlier.**"

Hwoarang smirked, standing out the front of the place, stretching around a little, "**Shut it, SH. 'Sides, I want to see the rest of my friends. You should come inside too, and meet them. They're surprisingly nice people… Really.**"

"**I would pay to see you dance,**" The 19-year-old announced, walking inside the club with him, watching him subconsciously fix his favourite green and orange shirt, pulling it down at the back… And he noticed it. He never did that before if his clothes annoyed him. What was he covering up…? He did manage to pick up some markings under his shirt… Was that ink? Looked like –

"**How much?**"

He shrugged and dispelled all thoughts, "**Enough.**"

"**Well you might just have to cough up the money.**"

A bewildered face dawned upon him, "**You're gonna…?**"

"**No!**"

A pause, then hearty laughter. Both men looked at the people before them, trying to count exactly how many participants there were this year. Definitely more than the previous tournaments… The elder of the pair was keeping a watchful eye out for someone, for anyone, any of his friends.

Sienna eyes eventually found one. He shouted above the crappy dance music, "Jules!"

Julia Chang's head turned instantaneously. A smile came as she walked over casually, her dark brown hair moving as she walked. She stood on her toes and gave Hwoarang a friendly hug, grinning herself when one arm rubbed her back, "Red! How have you been these last two months?"

"Bored," He answered as she moved away, her hands now behind her back.

"At least you're out of the damn army now," She smiled and noticed the shorter man, "And who is this?"

"This is Seong-Hada, from our gang. He came this year to watch."

SH was lost in the woman's beauty. Eventually he snapped out of it and protruded his hand, "Hiya."

A smile. She took his hand and shook it firmly, "Hello. It is nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

There were smiles all around before the woman spoke, "Hey, the others are here. Come with me you two."

They followed her past a multitude of tables until they came to one where all their friends sat. There was Miharu, Xiaoyu, Christie, Steve, Lei, Panda, Baek (who must've been invited over), Razer and Julia herself. Chang took a seat next to Wulong and directed their attention to the new Korean boy, who was looking at everyone, managing to pick out a few people here and there, recognising them from the tournaments.

"This is Seong-Hada. He came to watch the tournament," She stated.

Those who didn't know greeted him with warm smiles and hand shakes. He sat down between Julia and Xiaoyu, seeing as he got along with those two the most. He particularly liked Ling's attitude. It kept him from thinking about what happened to the rest of his friends. Sure, he didn't voice it, but the thoughts were there.

Christie smiled at Steve on her left and looked to Razer on her right, "Are we cool now? You forgive me?"

"I guess," Came the extremely strained reply. Her eyes were elsewhere, as was her mind… Searching.

The Brazilian dancer put an arm around her friend, giving her a one-armed hug, "YAY!"

It wasn't returned. She was too preoccupied.

Kazama probably wasn't here, but she still wanted to know why he left her to protect her. It was like a mantra in her mind. Everyday. Why did he go? He knew that the Tekken Force always found a way to get to her, even though that would now no longer be a problem with Heihachi long dead. He knew she could defend herself…

Such annoying thoughts continued long into the night. It was even more annoying than the music.

As for the activities around her, Christie impressed a lot of the contestants with her dance moves. Basically… an attention whore, no offence to her. Seong-Hada was animatedly chatting with Julia, Xiaoyu and Lei about only God knows near the bar. Baek was chatting with his fellow King Of Iron Fist 2 participants, Ganryu (the 'fat tub of lard' as Hwoarang had put it kindly) and Bruce Irvin. Panda was off… being a panda, somewhere. Hwoarang and Miharu were catching up with old participants, such as Nina, finding out why they were here.

She was left with nobody, until Kazuya showed up again, "All alone again, are we?"

"Go away," Razer answered, her head in her arms, hearing the song change to a slow, ballad song.

"That is not the way to greet an acquaintance, Miss Athane."

"Whatever."

He sat down with her, "So… What have you been up to these past two months?"

"Kazuya, you never, _ever_ cared about me before. You did everything possible to make sure I'd hurt. You beat Hwoarang to a bloody pulp just to spite _me_. You taunted me, you fucking made me feel like more of a monster than I know I am… Why are you trying to make amendments now?"

"Because I need your help."

"And you came to me first because? Why don't you go find one of your old lackeys or something?"

"Anna Williams, Ganryu, Bruce Irvin… they were all half-wits. You are a smart one. I know you can help."

The Greek raised her head and rested her head in the palm of your hand, "What makes you think I'll help?"

"I do not know if you will help, but I am aware that you would enjoy some information I hold."

"Such as?"

"You are not being kind to me," He teased with his Japanese accent, "Therefore I will not relinquish it."

"You don't deserve kindness from me. Go fuck yourself Kazuya."

"Would you like to dance?"

"…What?"

The creature within chuckled, quoting a chorus from a Breaking Benjamin song, 'Say good bye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight'. Hahahaha.

The younger Mishima laughed. It wasn't malevolent. It was as if he was an entirely different person without Heihachi lording over him… Without… his past haunting him. She recalled Heihachi telling her, back when they were 'friends', before he sent the Tekken Force after her in the 3rd Tournament, of how cruel he was to his son.

"It is a ballad song. I thought perhaps you would enjoy some company, some activity, other than sitting here, moping around about how you are destined to be forever alone… Without my son, and without your best friend," The anger on her face caused him to chuckle again, "Yes, I know about his relationship with Hirano."

"What's your source?" She asked.

"Oh, I am sure you know…" He pointed the side of his head for an effect, "Super senses."

"Ah…"

"He is watching me."

"Who?"

"Hwoarang."

"Figures."

"So, what to talk about…" The younger Mishima mused, tapping his chin.

Razer rested her head back in her arms, looking at him, "Kazuya, I… I just want to be alone, okay?"

"Kicking yourself in the head?" He inquired in the like of a teenager.

"Yeah… Aside from that, I'm actually looking for Kazama… You know how. I want to know he's alright."

"You will not find him in here. As a matter of fact I do not know where he is. His energy is weak, though."

She sighed, moving her head so she was groaning at the table in frustration, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhh…"

"What're you doing here, Scarface?" The Blood Talon's voice sounded, his hand coming onto the table.

"Is there anything wrong with catching up with fellow tournament participants?" Kazuya drawled.

"Only when you've made their lives hell. Stay the fuck away from Razer and my other friends."

He chuckled, getting up from his seat, looking at the Greek one last time, _'See you around, Miss Athane.'_

'_Bye bye, Kazuya…'_

"You okay? Did he do anything to you?"

Razer shook her head and sighed, "No, he did not do anything."

Hwoarang pulled up a chair next to her and imitated her current position, only rather than staring into the table, into nothingness, looking at her, "So… are you gonna tell me what happened yet? Whatever happened."

"Tch…"

"Don't make me tickle you," He threatened teasingly, grinning a little.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Miharu?"

"She's now talking with Seong-Hada, Pigtails and all the others that have congregated around him."

"Right…"

He nudged her with his foot, genuinely worried, his grin fading away into total oblivion, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay? Really."

"But I do worry…" He gingerly touched her arm only to have her move away, "Hey… Don't do that…"

The 20-year-old lifted her head and looked to her left where he sat, her green eyes narrowed, glaring straight into Hwoarang's apprehensive, brown eyes. He tried to rub her arm again, the act of comfort this time successful, before her eyes diverted to the dark brown wooden table. She sighed a little, not willing to speak.

The hand trailed from her upper arm, down her forearm and finally rested on her hand above her head. He smiled a little when she gripped it and stood up, tugging at her to stand, hearing the song change into something he recognised, and was sure she would too, "Would you talk to me if we got away from here?"

"I don't think I'd tell you if you were out naked in the snow."

"You'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" He joked, still trying to have her stand.

Razer finally asked, "What are you doing?"

"Dance with me."

"You have a girlfriend."

"I don't care. Dance with me. Or… at least let me put my arms around you for one song."

"_Girlfriend, _Hwoarang. Have you even spoken to Miharu about me and your hugs and kisses to me?"

"No. And frankly, if Mi can't accept you, then I don't want her as my girlfriend…" He smiled coyly when she finally stood, avoiding his gaze, listening to his words, "You mean more to me than she ever will. You know that."

I told you Kazama was never the correct choice. What a fool you have been. It was _always_ him.

She was led to the floor, finally recognising the song to be 'White Night Fantasy' by the Finnish band Nightwish, and could barely hear Hwoarang's pointlessly announced thoughts, "Why'd they put an alternative song on? I can _kiiinda_ understand why, I mean the at least half the song's a fucking ballad, but at certain parts…"

Now, you have pushed Kazama away. He has pushed himself away. And Hwoarang has someone else.

Her eyes drifted across the floor as the Blood Talon babbled on. One of the couples she saw was Lee Chaolan and Anna, both locked in an embrace, and a little further along, Steve and Christie, chatting, but also acting like a couple. She smiled a little. It looked like the Brit had said something. Good. Great. Really great.

The slow guitar brought Razer from her thoughts, her observations, and she felt the 21-year-old bring her heavy head to his chest and loosely wrap his strong arms around her form, "So, Raze… tell me what happened."

"I don't want to."

"Don't start that."

She closed her eyes, hearing his heart beat at the other side, "I… really… do not want to talk about it."

"If you don't tell me by the end of this song, I _will _tickle you. I hope you know that."

"And I'll just run away."

"Pssh. I'll find you. I found you when you ran away from the dojang."

"Well… you were kinda scary…"

"Hah. Way to make me feel bad…" He quipped with a grin.

Athane's arms tightened around the Korean's form, "So is Miharu fighting this time around?"

Why did you bother asking such a question? Are you eager to beat her up?

_I'M. JUST. FUCKING. ASKING._

Sure. I believe that.

_I'm just wondering. For fuck's sake –_

"Nah. She said that she didn't feel strong enough."

"Hmm…"

More silence. There was nothing but the song going on for a little while, with no conversation until Hwoarang again randomly announced his thoughts on the song selection, "See? This is why I'm confused with the song," He took away one of his hands and threw it half way in the air, "You got a fucking heavy-not-dancing-type chorus. What do they want us to do? HEY COME ON EVERYONE, LET'S START A MOSH PIT!!"

"Stop embarrassing yourself," Razer replied with a smile, smacking him up the back of the head.

He rubbed the back of his head, "That hurt. So… Are you going to tell me what happened yet?"

Yes. Tell him how stupid you have been.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I said along time ago that I'm not playing that game with you ever again."

"Well you just did."

Her eyes began to sting. Her throat began to clench up, and burn. She swallowed, trying to make it feel better, though it was a pathetic attempt and it failed. A little sigh and a whisper, "…Jin broke up with me."

He stopped swaying her from side to side and looked down at her, "…He… _what_?"

"You heard me…" She replied, resting her forehead against his chest rather than her cheek.

"When? Why?"

"At the end of the last tournament… A few hours after I lost you… I'm so glad your time is over… I went to a place called Hon-Maru because I felt he was in danger… Like I said when I was fighting with you… Wings… Devil form… I saw him flying out of the place… Past the helicopters… I wonder why they were there. And… he landed… not too far away… We spoke… I was happy he was okay… He fought Kazuya and Heihachi in there… But… But…"

Hwoarang watched her try to speak, watched her ramble helplessly, until she finally grabbed his shirt, clenching at it for life, and began to just cry, totally confused, "It's not fair!! It's just not fucking fair…"

He frowned and held her again, knowing this was all he could do, "I'm so sorry, Raze."

"All to fucking 'protect me'…"

"_This is for your benefit!!" He screamed helplessly._

"_My benefit? Did it occur to you at all that I'm better off when I am with you?!"_

"All to fucking 'protect' me from I have no fucking idea, because he didn't fucking tell me, because he's a fucking **Snobby Rich Kid **with no thought to anyone but him-fucking-self!! For my benefit. Pssh… More like so I can turn around and kiss Midget to death now that _I _managed to fucking reunite them!! With no thanks."

The Blood Talon's face remained stern. He thought about interrupting, but opted against it, "I have no idea why I ever liked him in the first place. Nope. Not one. He's a fucking asshole. You were always right about him. I should've fucking listened to you. Then I wouldn't be so hurt… And neither would you."

She rambled on, her grip tightening on him all the more, her voice getting louder, the tears stinging more, the creature within slowly pushing her on, "And even if he wasn't being fucking selfish, and he was _generally _worried about my safety, he shouldn't have a fucking reason to! I'm a fucking qualified Iron Fist participant for God's sake!! I've taken down my own fair share of Tekken Force soldiers! Is that why he left? To protect me from them, seeing as they began coming after him?! Like being separated from each other was gonna _help!_"

"Stop it."

The Greek's narrowed green eyes left Hwoarang's favourite green and orange shirt and looked up at him, seeing his sienna eyes stare into nothingness, "You wanted to know, and now you do. Are you happy now?"

"No. Now I'm pissed off. Very pissed off at him, and sad because you're sad. He'd have to be fucking insane to give you up. But maybe… maybe he had to leave you to protect you from something you don't know about."

"Like what? A fucking dinosaur?"

"Himself."

He looked back at her, feeling her stop and be very confused. She looked down, "…Why… himself…?"

"I said _maybe_. And maybe the Gene's gone loco and he's pushed you away to keep you as safe as he can."

The Devil Gene has definitely been more active in him than previously. Most probably since he was 'killed'. If that is the case, then he is genuinely concerned for your well being. I did not think of this before so do not attempt to hound me unless you wish to suffer the same fate.

A trembling sigh. Razer breathed in again, her voice now weak and sore, "I don't know anymore…"

He didn't know what to do. He actually wasn't too sure on what to do. He thought to himself that he could hold her and tell her it was okay… but they both knew it wasn't. He could go out and find Kazama and make him explain himself… but he would find some wordy way to avoid it. He could leave her alone to her thoughts, for her to scream and cry… but that would only make it worse, and make him feel even more helpless.

"I have nobody…"

Still entwined in each other's arms, Hwoarang pulled her further away from the area, towards a large window, and slid onto the floor, his back pressed against the wall. She sat in his lap, letting go of him, simply using him to lean against, and felt the Korean's arms only hold her tighter, hearing him whisper, "You have somebody. And you will always have that somebody."

She shook her head dumbly, "I'm a fucking loner. I have nobody. I don't have that somebody anymore."

He smirked a little, resting his head against the wall, and peered down at her through his sienna eyes. He found her right hand and tapped the ring gently, hearing the little 'dink' sound, "You know that's not true…"

"Yeah but you just gave that to me because you were in love with me. You have Miharu now. You will probably go and make another one for her…" Razer cringed, immediately regretting saying that, hearing the creature within laugh herself stupid and go 'how pathetic'. Well… it was.

"No."

A slight smile. Hearing that simple word answer her snivelling question made the pain in her back worth it.

"No," He repeated, softer, kissing the top of her head, resting his chin thereafter, staring into nothing.

_Crestfallen Soul,  
__Rest For This Night.  
__Love Is Here,  
__Right Here Under My Wings._


	11. Strike

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

Author's Note: Its craptacular. This is when I started to notice that I was having difficulty transferring from the Drama-ish genre _back _into the Adventure genre. That's why the fight that's in this chapter is… tiny and basically not written about? I'm sorry guys. I've added more in than was there before, but its still… craptacular XD And sorry for not updating for a while, I wanted to wait until today to update because its Queen Delacroix's birthday! Happy hambagah-belated birthday, buddy! XD

_**Chapter Eleven: Strike**_

_The King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5 Roster – Round One_

2 v.s. 14

12 v.s. 20

29 v.s. 30

11 v.s. 16

33 v.s. 24

23 v.s. 26

8 v.s. 9

7 v.s. 16

5 v.s. 25

22 v.s. 28

31 v.s. 34

32 v.s. 27

10 v.s. 18

4 v.s. 17

15 v.s. 19

3 v.s. 6

1 v.s. 21

"Can we all just be quiet for a moment?" The receptionist called loudly, rubbing her head.

Few responded. She span the paper around on the desk continuously, just wanting them to shut up, just to fucking shut up. Rivals had found each other and began yelling at each other, and friends that didn't manage to catch up the previous night were now talking animatedly.

Being a total 'lady's man', the brutish Marduk sensed her distress. He immediately gathered up his voice and screamed in the hotel very bloody loudly, "EVERYONE, FUCKING SHUT UP! OR I'LL BREAK ALL YOUR FACES!"

"You wouldn't be able to get all of them in time, Marjack," Seong-Hada called back from the lounge lazily, sipping on a milkshake.

Stifled giggles. The Australian's widened as he scanned the crowd for the few that were giggling. There was _obviously_ the little suicidal bitch and her red-headed friend, there was some shrimpy, pigtailed person (who was at the last tournament), King (oh, he was gonna pay for that…), a Japanese girl with short brown hair in blue, some other girl with long blonde hair, that silver-haired, unicorn hugging guy (who was at the last tournament too), a… very hot woman with a red dress on, and the dancing whore (also from the last tournament). He considered going crazy then, but opted against it. There'd be other opportunities…

The receptionist rubbed her eye, "Okay. First matches are this afternoon. Numbers 2 and 14, step forward."

Marshall Law, who was wearing a rather dirty chef outfit, and some new person in a red suit with plaited, long black hair stepped forward and took a look at each other. The receptionist smiled, "Marshall Law v.s. Feng Wei. You two are fighting in two hours, on a building's roof. So that's at eleven in the morning."

Law's eye twitched with agitation. Feng Wei nodded respectfully and walked away to train. The American turned his head to his left and sighed, watching as Paul simply stuck his thumb up, even as he walked away.

"Aaaaand… 12 and 20, step forward."

Xiaoyu's eyes widened slightly upon hearing her number. She stepped forward, pondering who number 20 would be, who her nemesis would be… Who would suffer her punches and kicks to earn money and make a fucking time machine, and fix what happened to the Mishima family all those years ago.

To her dismay, Yoshimitsu, who was not too far away from her, stepped forward. She frowned, not happy about the fact that he had a sword and that he was a friend. The mysterious stranger had told her much about Jin's past since the end of the 4th Tournament, and she couldn't help but feel terrible for the Mishima family…

"Okay, you two are fighting in five hours, at the shops. That's at three. They are all the battles for today."

As the others disbanded, Razer's eyes flickered about, trying to see who was here, who was new, and so on. She could smell Kazama essentially bolting off. She could smell Kazuya leaving too. She could smell… someone else heading off, but she didn't know who, or why it was so familiar…

But aside from that, there was something else haunting her. It felt like someone was telling her to find this familiar person, and find him or her very, very fast, before something bad happened. Something else… here… around the tournament, felt worse than the person she couldn't identify…

Yet there was a connection.

* * *

An agitated Yoshimitsu remained seated on the ground, awaiting his opponent. She had five more minutes to get here, otherwise she would assumingly be disqualified. The area had essentially been cleared out, like his mind, which was very focused on revenge for his fallen clan members…

Even if it meant he had to beat the sweet girl.

He could see a few other people approaching, most likely her large group of friends, though their figures were blurry in the distance. As a few moments went by, he could make out a fair few of them. There was Miharu from the 4th Tournament, who was holding onto Hwoarang, who was standing next to Razer, who was talking with Christie, who was constantly being poked by Steve, who was being scolded by Julia, who was being told to 'let up, he was having some fun' by Lei, who was by a silent Seong-Hada, who was walking alongside Panda.

"Wait a minute, she's not here yet?" Hirano inquired, stopping just outside the battle perimeter.

The 21-year-old Korean smirked, "Obviously not. I guess Pigtails chickened out."

"She wouldn't."

"Pfft. She was shaking when I fought her at the 3rd Tournament."

"She was not!"

"She was! Razer, stop giggling!"

Athane tried to, and rolled her eyes, leaning against the nearby wall, "Yoshi, how long has she got?"

"Three minutes now," He replied, then adding, "Please do not call me Yoshi. I am not a Nintendo character."

Silence. There was nothing aside from breathing and the occasional movement. Each moment dragged on…

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!"

The announcer furrowed his eyebrows, "A minute more, Ling Xiaoyu, and you would've been disqualified."

The 18-year-old Chinese girl's legs furiously pumped until she was standing directly before a rising ninja. Her hands rested above her knees on her Chinese garments, "My Grandpa wasn't letting me leave the gym…"

Miharu smiled, still holding onto her boyfriend's arm, "Ah, good old Wang was forcing you to train hey?"

Hwoarang snickered childishly, "Haha, _Wang_…"

A smack upside the head from the Japanese youth, "Don't be so disrespectful."

He rubbed the back of it with a sigh, "Obviously I'm not gonna escape getting hit. Ever. Am I, SH?"

Seong-Hada leant against the wall by Razer's side, his face stern unlike the Greek's, "Nope."

"This is it for spectators?" The announcer inquired, looking amongst them all with his brown eyes.

"Should be," Julia replied, scratching Panda behind the ears carefully.

"Alrighty then. Let's get started. No one is to interfere –"

The Blood Talon interrupted with an extremely sarcastic, "Well duh…"

He scowled at him before looking to the two who were about to battle, "Keep it clean. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!!"

Three spinning kicks met a still-disorientated Chinese fighter. They all connected and had her move backwards in dismay. She cradled her shoulder before slipping back into stance hurriedly, preparing for anymore oncoming attacks. There were a few punches and a simple kick, all of which Xiaoyu managed to block.

The moment he let up, she struck with her Storming Flower attack, the impact sending the ninja back. She ran forward and performed the Crescent Moon Kick, her left heel landing squarely on his chest, with a loud clash. She winced a little, feeling the impact through her shoe.

Yoshimitsu countered with a horizontal slash, which Ling managed to avoid by going into her Phoenix Stance, keeping her body low to the ground. Once the threat of the weapon was well out of the way, she leapt into the air with two front kicks, one of them catching the ninja at the bottom of his jaw. She heard him groan in frustration in pain before throwing himself into three quick spinning kicks, each one of them aimed for her head, hoping for a quick knock out.

The first collided with her white cheek, and the next two were blocked. The Chinese fighter attempted to counter with a few swift chops, though once the first one connected, it hurt her more than it hurt him. She reeled, backing away, cradling her sore hand, before furrowing her thin, black eyebrows, wondering what to do next.

She changed into Rain Stance, her back facing her opponent, her head over the shoulder, as the battle raged on.

* * *

"You shouldn't have punched his sword…" Lei quipped silently, adjusting his tie.

Miharu, who was rubbing Xiao's knuckles gently, nodded in agreement, "You know better than that."

"I was trying to knock it out of his hands! Weapons are not allowed in this tournament! Why's he got one?!"

Hirano furrowed her eyebrows at her screaming friend, "Xiao! Shut up and calm down!"

The Chinese youth crossed her arms and sighed sadly, "Damn system… Hey, who won in the first match?"

"I heard it was that new guy, Feng Wei," Julia remarked with a slight grin, "He's Chinese. A shame for Marshall Law though, I mean, like… Did you hear about what happened to poor Forrest a few weeks ago…?"

"Motorbike accident," Razer snapped immediately, "His Mother called me."

Chang shook her head and sighed, "Sad…"

The others continued speaking about what happened to Forrest Law, and who they thought was going to fight tomorrow and what not. Athane had zoned out and closed her eyes, her fists clenching in her pockets, keeping her mind completely open for Jin to contact her, _'Kazama?'_

Still no answer. She swore she felt him at Ling's match. She concentrated harder, only to find nothing.

A tap to her shoulder. She whispered quietly, "What is it, Hwoarang?"

"It's Steve," He chuckled.

Well, that is a first. You were so busy searching for Kazama that your scent senses failed. Amusing.

_Go away… For God's sake… just… go away… _"What's up?"

"You're thinking," Fox retaliated blandly, leaning against the wall she was leaning against too.

"And?" She responded, her eyes still sealed shut.

"Why do you think so much?"

"Why do _you_ think?"

"…It?"

"How smart you are…" Razer drawled, her green eyes snapping open, a sigh lingering afterwards.

Steve frowned and patted her shoulder, "Is there anything I can do for you? You seem out of it today."

"No… There is nothing you can do."

The British boxer frowned and sighed a little, "You worry me, you know."

She shook her head and waved her hand to her right, "I worry everyone. Always have. And I'm used to it. Go with Christie and do something fun with her, like a movie. Your time is better with her than it is with me."

A worried glance was shot elsewhere before the 21-year-old indeed vanished from her sight. Her eyes slid closed again and she rested her shoulder against the wall, a hand shooting up to her head, _Why… can't I find him…? Can you find him…? Can you… sense him at all…?_

He is okay, Razer, but I am going to assume he is still recovering from your cruel words…

_It was your fault! You made me _that_ fucking angry! You pushed the anger onward!_

The emotion was real, The creature within stated simply, before adding, It is not going to be okay.

An overwhelming force suddenly washed over her. Razer breathed in, feeling this force try to calm her down, trying to settle her and keep her head straight, keep her from caving in and screaming. The voices that were around her, the ones she knew and could identify, began to drown out and became nothing.

_**It's alright.**_

That's what… this… force was trying to tell her. That was the message being sent. That everything would be okay, though the skies were turning grey. This force had been around since she went home, and it was so fucking familiar, though the 20-year-old Greek couldn't put her finger on it. She wished she could though.

Whenever this feeling came, whenever it overwhelmed her… the creature within died out, and it would remain quiet for so long… Oh God how she wished she fucking knew… Nothing made her feel so calm. It was so calming… It was like… a drug. Like what too much of the pain killers used to do to her. The feeling just popped up randomly and prepared its strike, succeeding in its mission. It just struck with no real, known cause.

Snap. A stinging sensation accompanied with a surprised shriek from herself. Then male laughter.

It took her half a second to realise what had gone on and span around, slapping the Blood Talon with a grin on her face, the calm feeling washed over, the creature within still dormant, "Why did you snap my fucking bra?"

"To get your attention," He replied, albeit in a small fit of chuckles still, rubbing his struck cheek.

She eventually smiled too and looked away, seeing the now deserted room, "Where did the others go?"

"Just… away, you know? Xiao got her hand fixed and what not. So they all left."

"Aw, without me? I am so touched at their consideration…" Athane joked.

He drew closer to her, though a little apprehensively, and wrapped his arms around her torso, "So… Steve gave me a 'help me out, I dunno what to do' face. And I kinda heard you two talking. So what's she doing now?"

Razer turned her head to her right and looked up at him, still smiling, "Nothing now."

The frown on his face disappeared. He smiled too, whispering tenderly and forlornly, "Angel…"

Look into his eyes, Athane. Look into those depths.

The smile shrunk and was now little. She looked away from him and pulled from his arms, heading for the exit, figuring it was time to leave, figuring she had to stop this in case Miharu was around or before he started thinking of cheating on the Japanese girl for a six-year-long attachment to her.

Despair. See the pain that you strike into the very heart of him.

Hwoarang seemed to understand her trail of thought and sighed a little. He couldn't let go, though still trying, and it was annoying the hell out of him. He followed her out, wondering if Baek would be training right now, if he'd help them train up, if he'd be able to help him in his… problem.

He saw her wince and could swear he heard the creature within speak in his own head, tormenting them further, making the pain so much worse, making the strike deadlier, The love you share will never go anywhere.

The 21-year-old man mentally struck himself, and hard.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Marshall Law v.s. __Feng Wei_: City At Sunset, Tekken 5  
_Ling Xiaoyu__ v.s. Yoshimitsu_: Acid Rain, Tekken 5

* * *

**Author's Note:** ...Yeaaaah. Hi again. Did ya miss me? XD I put stages up XD So you know where they're fighting and whatever. The underlined fighter is the winner, then after that is the stage, and which game its from. No idea why I did this actually, but I thought it'd be a welcome change to arenas and stuff, and to help you guys see the battle scene/area/etc better. I know this is a Tekken 5 Fic, but I will be taking stages _from all _Tekkens, kk? Definitely from Tekken 3 and onwards. I'll try and slot some Tekken 1 and 2 stages in there as well. Anyway, until the next author's note!


	12. Open Your Wings, Evil Angel

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and the Creature._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twelve: Open Your Wings, Evil Angel**_

_No…  
__Don't Leave Me To Die Here.  
__Help Me Survive Here, Alone…  
__Don't Surrender._

A shame you have surrendered. A shame you allow me to stalk through you so freely, mortal.

There was a violent head shake and a trembling sigh, along with heavy eyes watching _her_, _Don't…_

Raven. The foe standing opposite of a very alert Razer in a small garden, his stern arms crossed, his posture tall and straight. He peered at his Greek foe from his black sunglasses, watching her as she adjusted the long sleeves of her light blue shirt, turned her head, and stare straight back through leaf green eyes.

He smirked a little when the redhead's penetrating gaze left him. That… Hwoarang… person? Was that his name? Korean? It didn't matter. The redhead had been eyeing him rather unhappily since Razer and her group of friends arrived. The agent could tell, straight off, that he didn't trust him all that much… Not that it mattered.

A slight, silent sigh. He uncrossed his arms, seeing Razer leave the redhead and he others. She fell into stance, and he did like wise. He had a mission to accomplish at this tournament. There was… evil… brewing at this tournament, and although he personally saw Heihachi Mishima perish in the hands of many Jack-4's (with thanks to G-Corporation) at Hon Maru two months ago, he did not believe that the 75-year-old man was dead.

It was useless to resist his power, and Raven was going to make sure Miss Athane knew it. Besides, whether or not he won this particular fight, he needed to tell her something, badly. It was extremely urgent, and she had a right to know about it. Though whether she'd conform to the… plan, was an entirely different thing.

"23 v.s. 26. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"

The 20-year-old charged at him straight off with four kicks with her left leg, the move also known as Machine Gun Kicks. The final one launched him into the air, and before the Greek could respond with any other moves, Raven disappeared behind her, a strong punch sending her into the ground as he landed.

Well, isn't he a little cheater?

Razer lifted her right leg, sending her opponent into the air once again, much to the glee of the few spectators that came, again sending this mysterious man airborne. As she conducted a roundhouse kick, bringing him to the ground rather easily, she wondered why he was here. The look on his face was so firm, so serious…

And then Raven was alive, coming at her with a flurry of strong punches and 'overly-cool kicks', as Seong-Hada screamed out at one point. Some connected, others were blocked, but all throughout she couldn't help but smirk. There were a few times where her foe was attempting to trip her over, yet all attempts so far failed completely.

The creature within began to scold her once she _was _tripped over, saying how she shouldn't have allowed her mind to stray, how she shouldn't have been so cocky in thinking that he couldn't trip her… not that it mattered. The opposition attempted to land another kick on her, his leg soaring high above his head, until he too was tripped over with thanks to Christie's Ipanema Wings attack.

But he was gone again! Where'd he go now!? How the _hell _could he do that trick?! Maybe he was a ninja…

'_Behind you…' _Came a weak voice.

In the nick of time, her forearms caught the impact of the strong punch, rather than her body. Razer dodged more fancy kicks before managing to slip into Right Stance and perform the Jackknife throw, watching him smash his head into red flowers. She took a few steps back, still in Right Stance, her arms still low, and looked around frantically, knowing the warning voice that arrived in her head was not Kazuya, but Jin.

So… he was here. But where?

'_Jin?'_

The slight distraction caused three punches to smash into her side. Athane's eyebrows furrowed as she moved sideways, slipping into Jin's stance, and conducted Laser Cannon. She smirked, _A fist for a fist, ninja boy…_

Raven craftily stood onto his feet once again before awaiting Razer to move forward and attack. His prediction was correct. He grabbed her arm, the one that was launching another punch at him, and parried it away with ease, before tackling her to the ground, but did not slam his fists into her or attempt to dislocate a part of her body, though he did think of it. The man smirked, "It's useless to resist."

Razer scowled before managing to throw the agent off of her, "Do not talk that way with me, fool."

He smirked, crossing his arms, "Headquarters did not inform me that you would be this… aggressive."

She faltered slightly, her arms easing down, her voice a whisper, "…Headquarters?"

He was at her again, punches, kicks, the like. He performed the Chakram attack, the final blow sending her backwards, onto her ass. Raven walked forward, his arms crossed again, and stood before her quivering form, his height lording over her own. He could vaguely hear the redhead calling her to get back up.

Athane growled and looked at his shoes, "…What do you and your fucking Headquarters want from me…?"

"We have reason to believe you have a corrupted Angel Gene."

The world froze.

His voice ripped through her, his whisper tore through her soul, her everything –

The last three words echoed through her head continuously, summoning that damn doom train in her head again. A million thoughts rose to her head, a million feelings ploughed through her system, the most prominent one being anger and confusion, all over again. It was like she discovered the fucking curse once more…

_CORRUPTED ANGEL GENE!?_

There was no response in any way, shape or form… Nothing but a malevolent smile striking her.

Raven frowned a little, knowing that she was probably extremely confused, desperately trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, and why the entity… if it was known, disguised its true form. He took a few steps back and allowed her some personal space, waiting for the 20-year-old to stand, or for her to scream.

Razer stood, but she did not scream. Her eyes pierced into him, emitting hate, "You're lying…"

"I have no reason to lie, Miss Athane," Raven replied calmly, his arms still firmly crossed.

"YOU'RE LYING!!"

She stood on her feet again, in Right Stance, and ran at him, conducting Back Lash, watching as blood flew from his mouth, as his neck twisted, as his body flew backwards and away, crashing into more flowers with force. As he landed, he smirked to himself, thinking, _Well, there's the scream…_

The two words that were amplified had all spectators immediately look to Hwoarang, who was tapping his chin in thought. What did the mysterious competitor say to her to cause her to shout out in anger? He needed to know, one way or another, so he knew how to make the pain not as bad… It was going to be a bit difficult though, because if her reaction was like this, then it would be difficult to get through the barrier she would automatically set up around herself. That, and Miharu may not approve of his methods…

But they were the methods that were needed to soothe his angel. He sighed a little.

"**Would you tell me if you found out?**" Baek inquired, looking back to his pupil.

A smirk appeared on the Blood Talon's face as his hand returned to his pocket, "**No.**"

"**Funny, you have not changed at all. You never did tell me anything you two spoke of.**"

"**And I never will. I promised.**"

Doo San sighed a little, still weak from his fight earlier today against Bruce Irvin (in a _pool side_, of all places) and resumed watching his pupil attack in fury, unleashing a ten hit combo on Raven. She had definitely changed though, even if his fellow Korean did not. It was… very unsettling to see that once sweet and silent girl was now such an angry woman. He wondered what made her change.

The agent rolled out of the way of another kick and grabbed Razer from her right side, performing the Swift Assassin throw, cracking his arm thereafter. He turned back to face her, still cautious of a possible counter attack, and continued speaking in a quiet voice, so only she could hear him, "I apologize that you had to hear this from someone you did not know."

She stood too and countered with her Dead End throw, pushing her foot down against his neck with extreme spite, the 'corrupted angel' within feeding her anger, "Then you would have kept your mouth _shut_."

"Are you aware that your eyes are now red?"

Back Lash. He went flying again, his head slamming into the concrete just below the Koreans and the others. He fell forward onto his face, seeing a frog nearby to his right bouncing away in fear. Raven smiled albeit a tad sadly, and looked up to the coming Greek, still whispering to her, "You are _literally_ an evil angel."

A fierce 'shut up' emitted from her rasping voice. Athane grabbed Raven once again and tossed him to the other side. It reminded her of her second battle against Heihachi Mishima in the 4th Tournament… The feeling –

"Razer."

Hwoarang's voice brought her from her want-to-kill state. She turned her head, seeing his eyebrows furrow when he noticed the red eyes (even managing to see Baek Doo San stare at them, shocked), and nodded at him once he shook his head, a silent 'don't let her get to you'. A little sigh escaped her as she walked to her foe.

Raven stood to his feet shakily and came at her once again, performing his Shuriken Kick before with all his might, releasing his Crusader attack, both of his hands sending her to the ground. He fell to one knee and looked up again, watching as she wiped blood away from her forehead and approached him again, running, probably trying to execute a leaping side kick at him and knock him out.

And that was just what she did, his body hitting the floor, the announcer yelling her number as the victor.

Razer's eyes narrowed at the agent, "**You and your HQ had better stay the hell away from me...**"

She heard feet hitting the floor and come over to her. She could smell the Blood Talon, "Well?"

"Well _what?_" Athane scowled, turning away from him, walking away from him as fast as he could.

"What did he say to you?" He pestered gently, his hands in his pockets, walking faster to try and keep up.

The 20-year-old looked over her shoulder, seeing him stare at her longingly (though he was trying to hide it) and worryingly. Her green eyes saw her other friends look at her too, all putting their trust in the 21-year-old Korean to do what he could do and… ease whatever pain was brewing within her.

And then she ran. She ran as fast as her feet could possibly take her. She ran to get away, to escape everything said now, Breaking Benjamin lyrics pumping through her head, the song ironically called 'Evil Angel'.

_Put Me To Sleep, Evil Angel.  
__Open Your Wings, Evil Angel.  
__Fly Over Me, Evil Angel.  
__Why Can't I Breathe, Evil Angel?_

_Stupid… Stupid! He's lying! He just has to be…_

Dark laughter erupted in her mind, Welcome to the twisted heaven, evil angel, for that is what I am!

"No… No no no no…"

_YES_, Razer! Kneel before me! Despair! Know my power!

The Greek felt arms seize her, felt them lace under her own and pull them back, restricting her, keeping her shoulders straight against the person's form. Razer began to thrash violently, her voice breaking, though clearly extremely confused and rather infuriated, "Let me go, Hwoarang! Just let me go…"

"Fucking calm down," He replied sternly, not relinquishing his grip, no matter how hard she struggled.

More fighting. More thrashing. And then it eventually calmed. His arms slid down her body and rested above her hips, his chin on her shoulder, his eyes spotting brimming tears, his voice gentle, "Just tell me what he said."

Her mouth opened, ready to tell, but her voice did not come out, Knowledge you will not acquire!

The 21-year-old's arms flew off of her immediately, fear coursing through his system, just like the last time when this creature almost killed him. His fists clenched, though he tried to make his current posture unreadable to those watching him, "Retreat to your prison, monster, and give me my angel to speak with."

Your angel… The creature echoed cruelly, looking over her shoulder with a dark smirk and red eyes.

One step back and he saw her hand shoot up to her head. Her true voice returned, "Leave me alone, Hwo."

"I won't do that," He said, raising his left hand, tapping the ring with his right index finger.

As Hwoarang went to approach her again to comfort her, she ran off, muttering something he thought he would never, ever hear come from her trembling mouth, "Kazuya… Where's Kazuya…? I have to find him… Now…"

He ran after her as fast as he possibly could, weaving past a few people. He was now lagging very far behind her, and could barely make out her form bolting towards the hotel. She disappeared behind the doors. There was nothing but panic, confusion and chaos running through her system, all pointing to the one man who could say something or see something in this situation that would ease the pain.

"KAZUYA!"

Razer screamed the man's name verbally and mentally, seeking him. He was right. He was right all along.

The 49-year-old younger Mishima could identify this source and managed to walk from the gym to the foyer, dressed in his white gi and red foot guards and gloves. Razer's head snapped from pointless searching in the foyer to him once he arrived and ran over to him. He spoke before she got there, "What is it, Miss Athane?"

She stopped in front of him, her green eyes to the floor, wiping tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand, before answering with a shaking voice, "Kazuya… I am no devil… I am nothing better than it either."

"Then what are you?" He inquired blankly.

Razer finally looked up, and choked on new tears, scratching the inside of her palms, "The fact was confirmed by her herself… that I am an evil angel."

The Japanese man watched her snap and break down, tugging at her brown hair, muttering things in Greek he knew he would never understand or know, and sighed. He patted her head lightly, awkwardly, "At least there is hope for you."

To their surprise, she didn't attempt to rip off his hand from his arm. Why she allowed him to do that, she didn't know. Why she even came to him in the first place, believing that he could help calm her down, was still not particularly known to her either. She just had to, "I am doomed like you are."

He chuckled and let her go, "I am doomed, and so is my son. You are not."

"I have a corrupted Angel Gene. Where is my hope!?"

"You are not listening to the words. _Corrupted._"

She rubbed her face with both her hands, distressed, and sighed, standing there, completely stationary.

Kazuya spoke to her again, through her mind, grinning a little, _'Turn around. He is waiting for you…' _With that, he left and returned to the gym, knowing his opponent, Lei Wulong, would provide a challenge for him.

Razer's head turned slightly, her green eyes making the rest of the distance, to see Hwoarang still standing there, outside the hotel, before the steps, his hands in his pockets, eyeing her carefully, thinking on what to do.

She eventually found herself pushing one of the doors open and slipping outside, sniffling, but trying to keep strong. She didn't need to break down once more. She took little steps down the stairs and came to stand in front of him, looking into sienna eyes, trying to speak, but failing.

And then his arms came around her again with a sigh, "**I wish you would just tell me…**"

It was as if the Greek understood what he said, though she didn't, "Corrupted Angel Gene."

"…No wonder you screamed at him."

"Sad thing is, she told me he was correct. So now the mysterious _creature _is revealed."

"I guess at least she told you the truth now, at least…"

"I just wish she'd fuck off and _die_."

In that moment, comfort mode activated.

The 21-year-old looked down at his best friend, watching as she moved her cheek away from his chest and look up at him in return. He looked deep, past the shimmering leaf green eyes, past the confusion, frustration and anger, and saw fear. It was not the strongest fear ever, but it was enough to make him frown.

Razer's head began to fall back down, hoping to hide again, but she felt a hand stop it from falling at all, any further. It wasn't even a hand. A finger. An index finger to be precise, from the Blood Talon's left hand, forcing her to look back up at him. She studied his expression for a moment before smiling sadly.

A force pushed them closer together, so close, that they could feel each other's breaths, they _swore _that they could feel the other's lips against theirs, only barely, fleetingly… Hwoarang's eyes shot from her lips to her eyes, checking to see if she was okay with it, if she _wanted _this. He studied her eyes a little while longer, though it soon transformed into simple gazing, seeing how she did want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.

And as the millimetres melted away slowly, they could hear their hearts pumping. A cry of a younger girl, a friend of theirs brought them both back from their desires and to the true reality… That they could not do this.

"Shiba…" Razer replied simply, seeing that love, that want in his eyes shatter despairingly, and be replaced with a slight smirk. He moved away from her lips and kissed her forehead, knowing that Miharu, that coming girl, the one that cruelly brought them back to the sad reality, would accept this. The Greek smiled appreciatively.

She wouldn't have him cheat, no matter how large the desire between them was.

"Are you okay now, Raze?" Xiaoyu inquired. Wherever Miharu went, Xiao was too, and visa versa.

A little nod came as she looked to those two and the others that had followed, all of her friends. The nod answered the Chinese fighter's question, along with a shiver as the Korean embraced her again. It was the same tingle she used to get whenever the Blood Talon touched her _before _she met Jin, _every time, _even if it was a simple stare, a simple smile… And it was here she knew she was in love with him again, even as the evil angel laughed at her misfortunes.

* * *

**Stages:**

_(Previous Day:  
__Wang Jinrei__ v.s. Kuma: Industrial Complex, Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection  
__Eddy Gordo__ vs. Armour King: Final Frontier, Tekken 3)_

_Bruce Irvin v.s. __Baek Doo San__: Pool Party, Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection  
__Raven v.s. __Razer Athane__: Secret Garden, Tekken 5_

* * *

**Author's Note:** So the mysterious 'creature' is finally revealed. You all happy now? Because I know a lot of you were wondering, and hell some of you were bugging me, trying to get me to tell you! Lol. But anyway, there is something I have to say, and I really need to clear this up **right now.** I think I've been paying too much attention in Tafe lately, particularly during the 'Copyright And Royalties' time. But whatever, here I go.

You have probably seen around the section, lately, two or so stories employing the 'Angel Gene' plot device, or whatever. So, to those authors, and just for the record in general (yeah you can clearly see I'm paranoid about this), if you even _think _about coming after me and claiming that I stole your idea and 'slightly modified it', you'd better think twice or more, and back off _right __now_. I have been planning this idea since _before _I started writing 'Just Like Me' (WELL over a year ago now), which was _before _you posted this idea up here, and I have **multiple records to prove this**. I have _plenty __of __evidence_ to show you that I thought of this beforehand, and so therefore did not steal, adopt or modify your idea. I just didn't get the chance to post it before this idea appeared in other fics.

Now that that's out of the way, I think my true colours of which pairing I like more is showing XD I really wanted to whack that last scene in there but I couldn't quite figure out where, so I just tagged it here, hoping it'd fit decently. I don't think it does though-.-; lol. There's a reason I've put it in. You'll notice it more and more as the story goes by. It wasn't a 'spur the moment' type thing, it was actually planned. And by the way, are you happy now, Salysha? Jin popped up, lol!

And one more thing. MY WRITERS BLOCK IS GONE!! –is typing out Chapter 34 of this fic right now- OMFGYAY!! I think its safe to say that this story is pretty much finished, as I already know what happens during and after this chapter down to the smallest detail. Now the only thing I need to do is think up a decent Jin Ending… Any suggestions, guys? XD And I should really stop using this as a journal... How was everyone else's day? lol.


	13. Pull The Cord To Detonate

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** I. HATE. This chapter. It's the worst one in my opinion. It's just so disjointed and… crap. -.-

_**Chapter Thirteen: Pull The Cord To Detonate**_

A gentle knock at the door woke Razer from her fidgeting slumber. She groaned angrily, pulling the covers way over her head once again, not willing to be disturbed. She continued clutching the photo of her Mother and herself (that she had received from home) in one hand, sighing, rolling onto her back.

She kept having… the same nightmare. She could hear herself screaming in it, and it was very unsettling.

Great, now the asshole who decided to knock at the door was in the room. Athane curled up some more, wishing the person away, even hearing a second click in the door go. Now the door was locked. Wonderful. What the hell did this person want? Didn't the person know she just wanted to be alone…? She was fragile now.

And now there was total pressure on the bed. On her body. The person was lying on top of her.

Razer's tired green eyes darted around from under the covers, seeing a shadowy hand come and pull it back and away from her face, resting it at her collarbone. It took her a moment to get readjusted to the light of the area, and once it was done, she smirked, "Get off of me, Hwoarang."

"But I like it up here."

An excuse, "You are crushing me."

He retorted, "You love it."

Another excuse, "What if someone comes in? They'll think we're having sex."

"Door's locked," He replied with a grin, grinding his hips against hers with plenty of pressure.

"Hey!!"

The Blood Talon started to laugh and stopped, rolling off of her and lying beside her, "Couldn't resist."

"I figured."

"Anyway… what're you hiding under there?"

She sighed. The 20-year-old reluctantly produced the photograph and placed it in Hwoarang's hand, the golden frame recently cleaned up. The Korean watched as she looked away and slid from her bed, searching for some water to wake her up, before turning his head to the younger version of his best friend and her Mother. She had dark brown hair, a chocolaty colour, much darker than her daughter's, and light blue eyes. She had the same smile as her child. He grinned, "She's pretty. And you're cute. Hey, where's the rest of your stuff?"

The Greek pointed to a corner, near the chest of drawers, downing the water she had located. She watched as he slid off the hotel bed and lumbered over, sitting on the ground, going through everything carefully, studying it and all (even emitting a 'oh God you were a cute kid' where necessary or 'aw look at the little drawings', causing her to retaliate to both with 'shut the hell up').

"So this is your Dad?" He asked carefully. He didn't want to pull the cord and have her detonate despair.

Razer's head looked away from the sitting Korean and returned to staring outside the window with an absent mind, with many thoughts running through her head, causing a spinning chaos within there, "Yeah."

Hwoarang nodded, putting everything back into the bag carefully. The image of her Father remained in his head even as he stood and looked back to his best friend. Light brown hair, dark brown eyes, a hard, stern look on his face, beaming with self-confidence and arrogance. He scowled inwardly, before speaking, "…I wish I could say something that'd make you feel better… That'd make… all that stuff, all the bad times go away."

She looked back with slightly furrowed eyebrows, seeing him scratch the back of his head.

"But… I can't."

He looked up slowly and smiled a little, watching her speak, "The thought is what counts. Thank you."

"Any time. Anyway I came here to take you to Steve's match. He wants you there."

"Shit, the match is on already?!"

"It will be soon. Come on, let's go."

* * *

They came to a stop, finding themselves in the same area as Xiao's fight two days ago. Steve's head turned away from his opponent, Panda, and smiled, watching them stop in the assortment of fellow friends. His British accent cut through the silence, "Hello there, love. Glad you decided to come."

Her hand shot up to her head again as the corrupted angel's voice rang through her mind, like shattering glass, a shattering cup colliding with the floor, It screamed through her body with a clear fury, He makes it sound as if you were going to abandon him, the one person who would not leave your side, no matter the consequence!

She forced a smile to her face, forced herself to look at him, "Like I'd ever miss you kicking the bear's butt."

"IT'S A _PANDA_," Ling cried, her fist in the air, trying to prove her point. Her beady brown eyes darted towards the Greek woman, "What is it with you insulting Panda all the time!? 'It's a bear…'. 'It's a bear…'. God!!"

"Xiao, don't," Hwoarang remarked sharply, his eyebrows furrowing warningly, taking a quick glance at her.

The Chinese girl paused for half a second before running over and hugging her Korean friend, her head barely reaching the middle of his chest, "You didn't call me Pigtails!! Does this mean I'm officially classified as your friend now…? I mean what, we've known each other now for a little over two years?"

He smiled sincerely, patting her head gently, thereafter trying to get away, "Don't push your luck."

She smiled the same in return, noticeably confused, and looked across to Seong-Hada, "Translation please?"

Before he could nod or say 'it means yes we're friends', as he intended to for the Chinese fighter he was growing fond of, the referee impatiently spoke loudly, making everyone look, "Can we _please _start this match?"

Steve stuck his thumb up at the referee, and turned back to Panda, going back into stance, awaiting the '3, 2, 1, FIGHT!' to arrive. It eventually came and he set straight into his Gattling Gun attack for the animal that came lumbering towards him. Each hit connected, and with the final punch, Panda was sent backwards.

The British Boxer ran towards the rising creature, leaping into the air, smashing his right fist into its skull, showing no mercy as she went down, even throwing a few more punches while she was trying to stand up from a lying position. He felt bad about it, but Fox had to win this. He had to get even for what the Zaibatsu had done.

_They will never make another monster like me… _He growled in his mind, blocking Panda's G-Clef Cannon.

He quickly stomped down on her foot with his left, punching her again with one jab, performing Cyclone Punch thereafter. To him, the beast was a punching bag, one he didn't necessarily want to destroy, but he just couldn't leave it there. He was using Panda to train himself. He always knew she wouldn't be a challenge.

It saddened him that he had to harm one of his friends. He didn't know Panda all too well, having only been with her a few times, but from what he could tell, she was a sweet animal that loved her master and her friends.

…Who could also pack a fucking punch.

He stumbled backwards, his hand on his face, feeling blood seep from the gash of the creature's claws. He took his hand off his face and looked at the blood, before clenching his hand back into a fist. He went back into Flicker Stance, awaiting the animal's next move, seeing her charge back towards him. But he was ready for it, springing alive with three quick left punches, before a final right one came and slammed her back into the ground. Fox took a step back as Panda attempted to take a cheap swipe at him whilst she was on the ground.

Panda finally stood, standing taller, releasing a huge roar, before curling up into a ball and rolling towards him. Steve swallowed and hurriedly side stepped the rolling animal before she crashed into him. She missed him by at least a few hairlines, and stopped at the opposite end of the arena.

She stopped, uncurling from her ball, and ran back towards her opponent, charging at him, leaping at him with crossed arms, only to have the attack blocked. Damn that British bastard. He's too fast for his own good… She took a few steps back, wary of another hard and fast punch coming her way.

Steve slipped back once again into Flicker Stance, patiently awaiting the animal's next move. He waited for a bit longer, realising that the animal had actually learnt from her mistakes, and did not approach him at all, not until he went back into his normal stance, until he came running at her again with a Stun Gun Punch ready and waiting for collision.

He launched the Stun Gun Punch, but Panda moved out of the way briefly, before stepping straight before him once again, picking him up in a huge hug, squeezing him tighter and tighter and tighter, until all the air was being sucked out of his lungs. If she could frown a little, she would've, because she squeezed too hard at one point, hearing his back crack, hearing him scream out in agony.

The animal dropped him back on the ground and crouched down, ready to take a couple more swipes at the 21-year-old whilst he was still on the ground. But before she got a chance, Fox rolled out of the way and grabbed her by her arms, slamming one strong punch into her head, causing her to yell out in return and fall to the ground as well. He winced. He didn't want to hit her that hard.

With that, the referee waited for a bit, noticing how Panda was not rising, and spoke after walking up and checking her out, seeing how she was passed out, "The winner of this match is number 7, Steve Fox! Congratulations."

"YAAAAAY STEVIE! WAY TO GO!" Christie squealed, running over and giving him an enthusiastic hug.

He winced a little and patted her back, still feeling the blood from Panda's scratching punch trickle down his cheek. He looked to the others who were also showing support, aside from Seong-Hada, Hwoarang, Razer, Xiao and Miharu. He could understand Xiaoyu and Miharu, after all, they had known Panda for longer than Steve himself… But what was wrong with Seong-Hada…? Hwoarang and Razer were looking at him strangely, trying to make sure he was okay.

And then it clicked in his mind. He smiled at the others, showing his thanks, before walking over to the young Korean slowly, unsure of what was exactly going on, but knowing that whatever was disturbing him at the moment was from the events at home. He remembered that at Xiaoyu's and Athane's matches, he was in a similar state, but he did not press.

He was shaking. Blue eyes could see that. Maybe… maybe during the fight, the punches or something… were reminding him of the attacks that happened not too long ago. His expression was blank, as though he was seeing into another world. His eyes were scrunched up, as though he were about to cry, but above all, he was detonating despair. Only now it was so much worse –

"**You okay?**" Hwoarang asked slowly.

A slight shake of the head. Seong-Hada looked up to Razer, feeling his eyes well, communicating many things to her that only she would possibly understand, for she had been there, for she had endured this herself, for the Blood Talon did not understand this and wouldn't…

"How did you… deal with this…?" SH finally inquired to the Greek, looking down at his fingers.

"Very poorly if you recall…" She replied slowly.

"Hey, turn that frown upside down!"

Only one person could squeak that high. The 19-year-old looked up at Xiaoyu, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, somewhat amused with the fighter's childish statement, giving a very unintelligible response, "Huh…?"

The Chinese girl smiled simply at him, taking his hand, and began walking away from the group, "Let's go get you some ice cream. That cheers me up allllllllllllllllllllllll the time! Oooooh, I hope it does the same for you…"

He sighed a little, putting his other hand in his pocket, still shaking, "I hope so too."

_Seong-Hada's eyes widened, "__**OH GOD –**__"_

"_**Everyone, get out! Run!**__" Nas-San screamed._

"_**No fucking way!**__" He yelled back, charging._

A voice cut in, saving him from seeing fists and knives fly in his head, "That face doesn't suit you. Smile."

He couldn't help but do so, though he was shaking still, "So, ice cream, you said? What's your fave flavour?"

Steve furrowed his eyebrows a little. He was right. The battle… these battles… triggered bad memories. The cord had been pulled a little, and it was threatening detonation on the youth's part. With a sigh, he shook his head sadly, but was still smiling a little. It appeared Ling was helping.

His blue eyes drifted across to Razer, who seemed to be thinking as well. Perhaps the creature was pestering her again…? What was going on within her head right now…? Memories? Fears…? Doubts? Worries?

"You should go get yourself checked out," An elder voice cut in. It was Baek, and Christie was nodding along with every word he said, "That scratch could get infected if it is not treated immediately. So hurry on off. They've already taken Panda. Miss Hirano is with her."

He gave a small wave before running off to get treated, fleetingly see his fellow friends disband.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Steve Fox__ v.s. Panda_: Acid Rain, Tekken 5

* * *


	14. Misery’s Best Friend

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Fourteen: Misery's Best Friend**_

Suffer.

_Please…_

_Suffer_.

_Go away…_

Suffer!

He wrenched his eyes open with panic and annoyance, with fear and total vulnerability, giving a small cry, a whimper of detestation, thereafter hearing a loud noise, a thud, come from somewhere within his hotel room.

Jin Kazama sat back up and rubbed his back. Stupid devil… Why did he always have to be so rudely awakened…? Couldn't he rest after all the torment that was dealt to him last night…? …No. He couldn't. Of course not. How stupid of him. There was no break in the misery, and for as far as he could tell, there never would be.

Blood shot brown eyes wrenched their way to the clock laughing at him on the wall. 4:45pm. Ugh…

The Japanese youth looked down on himself, still trying to wake up. He was in his normal jumpsuit attire, but due to the shitty sleep, his jacket was half sliding off his shoulder, his pants felt twisted on his body, his shoes felt weird on his feet, his gloves felt strange on his hands, and _God_ he had a fucking headache…

With a reluctant sigh he stood shakily, fixing himself up, and grabbed his bag, deciding that it would probably be best to get some training in. His first match was in two days, and he was up against number 19, who he believed was Lee Chaolan, his adoptive uncle. Not that he necessarily cared.

From what he knew and heard earlier in the day, today's matches went to Nina, Steve and King. Nina had finally settled the sibling rivalry against Anna. About time, too. Steve triumphed over Panda, but to him that did not come as a big surprise. And as for King? Well… he _just _managed to beat Marduk.

His door closed behind him with a seemingly loud click. Even the smallest bit of noise sounded so much louder to him, like a fucking jack hammer was being slammed into his head continuously. Stupid fucking –

Pay attention to where you are going, mortal! You almost tripped over!

_Go away! _He shouted back, regaining his balance. Where was a fucking elevator when you needed one?

Kazama took small steps down the stairs, keeping an eye on his feet, making sure they didn't decide to go astray on him and try and go elsewhere. His right ankle was a little sore from the tumble he _almost _took, but meh, what was a sprained ankle as opposed to wings and horns tearing from one's body…?

There is no pain in that! What pain is there in becoming _greater_? You snivelling, pathetic, _weak _bastard.

Here we ago again, slinging accusations left, right and centre… With a trembling sigh, he continued watching his feet as they went step by step down the stairs, his right hand now at his head, finding it hard to control the devil within, the left still hanging limply by his side, holding onto his bag, breathing hard and even.

The 21-year-old was finally off the seemingly endless staircase. He veered to his left, and went left again, going behind the staircase, with the intention of heading to the gym… Where the devil within truly hoped it was _empty_, so his worthless host could be _alone, _and train _alone –_

…_I don't want to be alone… _

_Forever _alone, Kazama. Don't you _ever _forget that.

Two foreign, Asiatic words sounded, "**Holy shit…**"

His eyes widened, and his stomach lurched. He knew that voice. He fucking _knew _that male voice –

He breathed in for a moment, trying to compose himself. He could smell _her… _behind him… coming closer –

"Jin…?"

Go on. Run away. Run away like the wretched _monster_ you are! Run in _misery_!

…No. Not this time.

He turned his head over his shoulder, seeing Razer standing a fair few feet away from him, a fair few feet ahead of Hwoarang, staring at him with sad eyes… sad, knowing eyes, eyes that desperately wanted to help him.

She took a few more steps forward, and with each one she took towards him, he took back until he was completely against the wall, his bag now dropped to the floor. Jin was not expecting this at all. He had been extra careful of avoiding her, extra careful in making sure he _knew _where she was… He didn't want her to find him…

He swallowed, and he could feel the tears coming at his eyes, ones that he wanted to hold in, ones he didn't want her to see… For her to see the pain he had been suffering, the pain he had caused himself by saying what he had said… He wished he was smart enough to have put his hood up. Now that everyone knew he was alive, his identity was not vital to protect.

Kazama finally looked down at her face, into those leaf green depths, instead of anywhere else. He could smell Hwoarang approach just that little bit closer, and could barely see him crossing his arms, watching on with a twinge of jealousy, but more so, with compassion and possibly worry.

His heart leapt up to his throat, and the tears threatened to cascade like a waterfall when the 20-year-old's hands reached up and were placed on either side of his face, one thumb running over his skin back and forth, softly. Touch… Touch… After so long… And… So warm… She was so warm… Unlike him… He was so cold…

"Jin," Athane whispered with a firmer voice, her throat clenching.

He felt one tear slowly leaking down his pale cheek, and another desperately wanting to join it on the other side. _Don't crack. Don't crack. _Those two words were going through his head just as much as the screams of the woman before him and the Chinese girl were. They were so piercing… So piercing –

She was moving closer to him now. The Japanese youth pondered for a moment what she was going to do, what she wanted to do, or what she was thinking. He did not dare enter her mind. All he knew was that she was moving closer. He could feel her calm breathing… Quite the opposite of the screams in his mind.

Brown eyes drifted from the Greek and up to the Korean, who was looking to his right side with closed eyes and a stern face, arms still folded across his stomach, fingers digging into his arms, breathing hard and even. And just by looking at the Blood Talon, aside from seeing the twinge of jealousy consume him until it was fiercely seething in his soul, he knew what she may have been planning to do.

Kiss and make up. How unlike her. Well, go on then. Submit. Be the weak bastard you were destined to be.

He blinked away the water, and managed to tear his head from her gentle touch, something he desperately did not want to do, but _had _to do. It was for her own good, he said to himself. He spoke firmly, or at least, it sounded so in his head, not knowing in reality that it was so weak, so vulnerable, so torn, "Do not touch me."

Razer's eyes narrowed. Even now, two months later, he was giving her no straight answers, "Asshole."

With that said, she turned away from him, not even looking at the Korean, who had definitely heard her remark but was _not _looking back, _not _watching her go. She began to ascend the stairs, leaving them, most probably with the intentions of going to sleep or have a bit of an angry yell in private.

_Forever_ alone.

The 21-year-old man heard seemingly feather-light foot steps approach towards him. He looked up a little higher from his red shoes, and saw silver and orange shoes and the hem of blue jeans glaring right back.

Well, that is something new. He did not follow her.

"What happened to you…?" Hwoarang asked softly, watching as Jin finally looked up, if only for a moment.

This reply too was feeble, like the previous. Eyes gazed into the floor, "A broken heart, mind and soul."

He paused for a few seconds, leaning back a little rather than leaning forward, "Why…? Why'd you go and do that? You not only fucked yourself up, but you fucked her up too. And you can't even give her a reason why…"

"I must protect her from myself…" He replied finally, having chosen his words very carefully. After all, this was _Hwoarang. _If he said anything wrong here, he was in for it, big time. He looked back up again, rubbing his wrists nervously, the chaos of the past two months slowly crashing down on him. But more than anything, he was glad he had someone to talk to at the moment, even if it was his rival, "I have… been hearing screams in my sleeping and woken states. It is extremely unsettling, and I know it is Razer… Xiao too, sometimes… And I know that Devil is throwing them at me… I am afraid for her life. Their lives. And so I must keep them away from me."

A slight pause, only enough to try and steady his breathing, which failed. He sniffled a little and covered his face with his hand, "You do not know how few times I have had a break from all this stuff… Barely anything. Not even now…" A wince, a slight sob, "For God's sake… I can even hear her now… And I cannot stop this…"

Jin looked up, breaking, shaking, whimpering now, "It is so painful…"

The Blood Talon hesitated for a moment, watching the grown man tug at his hair like a frustrated teenager, like he had seen the Greek do many times before in such a situation involving the Gene. He wanted to say something, to at least ease it, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

With a silent sigh of true sympathy, he placed his hand firmly on the Japanese youth's shoulder, squeezing it a little, showing that even though he fucking hated his guts, that he was his rival until the end, that he was there, because he hated to see this, "You're really misery's best friend lately… aren't you?"

"More than you will ever know, Hwoarang."

More silence. He was about to take his hand away when Kazama asked a question.

"Do you mind… if I hug you?"

"…_Eh_?"

"I understand if you do mind. After all, you hate me. It's just… It's just… I'm…"

Broken.

Reluctantly, the 21-year-old Korean put one arm around the Japanese man, "I understand."

And he wasn't lying. He did understand. After all, he was in pain, and he was suffering like Razer does.

_I can't believe I'm doing this, _He remarked to himself, shocked and getting more surprised by the minute as the broken man gently put his own arms around his slender form. What the hell would someone like… oh say, Marduk think, seeing them like this? Hwoarang tried not to think about it.

"It hurts… so much…"

"It's okay," He replied.

"The need for her burns…"

_Yeah. I know,_ He thought quietly, just staring ahead of himself, remembering himself saying that once upon a time, in another land, in another life, way back when, when he _knew _he felt this way, _…Fucking scarred me for life. You should've been more careful, Kazama. At least I can take the burns. You can't._

After a good solid minute, that felt like so much longer (much to his displeasure, it was bad enough that he was hugging his rival, and that his rival was hugging him), the Blood Talon _finally _released Kazama from his hold hurriedly, before immediately slamming his hand back into his pocket, watching as Jin rubbed at the tears in his eyes a little, and as he looked up and away and with a ghost of a smile, "Thank you."

He shrugged, "S'fine."

There was a longer moment of awkward silence. Many things needed to be said, so much needed to be explained, and neither knew where to start. Hwoarang wanted to firstly knock a few teeth down his throat for being such a fucking dickhead, then find out what could be the source of the Japanese man's dreams, and what they could be telling them. He was scared to know why Razer was screaming. What was happening to her? What pain was being dealt in these dreams?

And as for Jin, he just wanted someone to talk to… about the screams, about how he was feeling inside, about the Gene, about anything. He had forced himself into isolation for so long, that just speaking to someone as fucking bratty and stupid as him was good enough. He had known this man for just over two years, and if things had been different, he might have been able to call Hwoarang… a friend.

Sparks got his attention. The Japanese youth looked back to the Korean, who was lighting a cigarette. He spoke after the first drag, "So Kazama… What do you say to hanging out for a bit? Might help you get your mind off all the shit that's been going on. Time to relax and all, you know? And hell, maybe we can come up with a couple of reasons as to whyyou keep having these _particular _recurring nightmares."

He finally smiled wholly, grabbing his bag off the ground, slinging it over his shoulder, "Thank you."

The Korean was scolded at by the receptionist for smoking in the building. He shrugged it off, saying that he was heading out anyway, seeing the 21-year-old walk along side him to the double doors. As he pushed one open, he stopped, cigarette in his fingers, looking at it briefly before looking over his shoulder, "Promise me something."

"I'm listening."

"Control your Devil. Don't you fucking _dare_ let him near her. Otherwise you'll have my fists and feet to answer to."

"We will draw if you decide to fight me again, Hwoarang… We are too evenly matched."

Sienna eyes burned him harder than ever before, "I don't fucking care. And I mean that, Kazama."

**Author's Note:** YAOI MOMENT _LOLLLL_!! Jokes. There was actually a point to the events that transpired in this chapter. I know someone who I detest very much (not hate, but I really don't like him), but sometimes I can see him as my friend, and if he's got a problem, sometimes I like to try and help him out, though I really don't like him. I feel that this is how Jin and Hwo would see each other, sometimes... I guess. -shrug- Anyway.


	15. Flex Your Ego

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Yet another craptacular chapter from yours truly. I like the fight though XD

_**Chapter Fifteen: Flex Your Ego**_

_That bastard! That fucking bastard! It _so _did _not _just turn around and fucking hit me with Nose Bleeder –_

"Why are your first fights always so amusing, Hwoarang?" Razer inquired coldly, barely chuckling.

He glared at her for a moment only to be met with Chain Saw kick, the hits slamming him into the ground.

"Hwoarang! Have you learnt nothing all of these years? Do not allow yourself to be distracted!" Baek yelled.

"Shut up! Just fucking _shut up!_"

He rolled out of the way of the oncoming Fireworks kicks and stood to his feet, yelling out in fury as he threw all of his body into his right leg – the Torpedo Kick. His opponent went backwards, holding its body with pain.

"Xiao? Now I know how you felt. Stupid fucking _tree_."

The 21-year-old was fighting Mokujin, an old 3rd Tournament participant who somehow returned. He - … She - … It, whatever, was absent in the last tournament, and at the moment was mimicking _his _fighting style, Tae Kwon Do, the way _he _does it. Of all the fucking styles, why did he have to pick this one today?

But in Hwoarang's state of mind, all that did was give him an advantage. He could predict the moves the training dummy would throw at him. Like now. By the way that Mokujin was holding his footwork, he was about to let loose Rejection. The two punches were blocked, and the final jumping kick did not catch him either. It went clear over the Korean's head, and as he was landing back down, the Blood Talon leapt into Hunting Hawk.

Somehow… Mokujin had steered clear of that. When Hwoarang realised that the first kick of Hunting Hawk did not land on the fighting tree, he had to stop immediately, landing, only to be met with Cheap Snap Shot kick into his back, causing him to be thrown forward and cry out in ache. He hadn't thought of _that _before… If Mokujin had the same moves as him… then it could predict his own moves as well…

Looks like he had to be careful and play it smart.

That, and not be distracted.

He had come to the rough conclusion that Jin's dreams were a warning of possible future events. He did not know what, and he did not know why, but he had such a strong gut feeling that it was fucking impossible to ignore. Once he and his rival got back from pointlessly walking around, the Japanese youth went straight to the gym to train for his match, and the Korean went straight to Razer to tell her what Jin had told him, even though he was specifically instructed not to. But fuck, Kazama wouldn't find out, would he?

"That is strange," She had said, "I have been having similar problems. I do not like hearing myself scream."

In the back of his mind, the Blood Talon knew that it was no coincidence… It was once again a side affect of the connection between the Genes. And if it was not… then the three of them had every fucking right to be worried. Still, this new information did nothing to calm Athane down. She remained cold-hearted and infuriated.

Two punches and two kicks hit him. He _seriously_ had to stop being distracted…

The Korean came to life one again, rearing his right leg above his head, bringing its heel down onto his opponent, thereafter drawing it back very quickly, desperately hoping it would cause him to fall back a little bit. It failed, for it was blocked. He immediately did a Spinning Left Axe kick, which crippled Mokujin, injuring its back, and then ripped into Teaser, the lower hit tripping him up, the upper, stronger hit being blocked unfortunately.

All the attacks he had just unleashed were then mirrored, and he only just managed to successfully block each one of them before sidestepping. The training dummy followed his movements with its red eyes, before managing to effectively pull out of the throw the 21-year-old was attempting to set up – Dead End.

Mokujin shifted into Right Stance and began to conduct Back Lash, an attack which did a serious amount of damage upon connection. Hwoarang managed to predict this, and parried with success, before he began to attack with a flurry of kicks – low, mid, high, mid, mid, low, mid. Hit, hit, blocked, hit, blocked, blocked, hit.

With a frustrated growl, his hand reached out again to grab the stupid tree. It attempted to escape from his hold once more, but this time its attempt for freedom was unsuccessful. It felt a sharp kick to the back of its head, before it found itself face first in the pavement at the end of the Human Cannonball throw, rolling out of the way of a Dynamite Heel attack.

Stupid fucking _tree._

Bouncing back and forth on his feet in Left Stance, the Blood Talon punched Mokujin twice before quickly kicking it in the… stomach-y area, sending it back a few feet. He withdrew his left hand, seeing splinters graze his fingers. He had put too much force in the first punch, and he did feel his hand slip during it. Well wasn't that just fucking peachy?

Stupid. Fucking. _Tree._

The training dummy came at him with a string of small combos – Rejector, Rejection, Home Surgery, Grand Theft, Total Outrage… Hwoarang blocked many of them, yet many of them also hit his form with incredible force, considering the damn thing was made of wood… Hell, in the 3rd Tournament, Xiao won by breaking its leg. And here he was, stronger than he was in the 3rd Tournament, in which _he did _beat Ling… and he can't even beat Mokujin.

STUPID. FUCKING. _TREE._

He could feel his blood boiling and run through his system rapidly. With a frustrated yell, he launched into a Ten Hit Combo, finishing off with his Rip Off attack, grinning darkly as the body crashed into the nearby telephone booth, watching the glass shatter, seeing a rather large dint in the framework.

"Get up! I _dare _you! Stupid fucking _tree!_"

The challenge was accepted, and Mokujin did rise to its feet shakily, only to be met with three well timed roundhouse kicks, sending the thing back into the ground. Angry? That was a fucking understatement… The 21-year-old was completely and utterly infuriated. He would _not _lose to a living training dummy. Not ever!

Time ticked onward, and neither were getting anywhere. What the hell was Mokujin here for anyway? It's not like it had anything important to do in the tournaments… It probably only joined to test the skills of the competitors every so often or something… But whatever.

Hwoarang grabbed the training dummy once again and successfully conducted the Pick Pocket Throw, watching as the dummy smashed into a nearby telephone box, glass shattering everywhere like a meteor shower. His breathing was laboured, and he had just about enough of this thing. He rubbed his face briefly before slipping back into his stance, _You'd better stay down._

It took a moment before the Korean's keen eyes spotted a large fracture in the thing's back. As in, it was probably immobilising. The wood must have broken against the metal frame of the telephone box, before the structure itself broke. He waited a little while longer, all bouncing back and forth on his feet having ceased, catching his breath, before grinning darkly, walking over to the other side where the broken warrior lay in lengthy strides.

"Number 22, Hwoarang, wins!" The announcer yelled.

He squatted down mockingly. Okay, whatever, sure… Mokujin can copy fighting styles… but that does not mean it can copy strength, agility, or speed, which in his opinion, _made _the fighter, "**Not too fast, are you?**"

"**No need for mocking, Hwoarang,**" Baek chimed, sticking his thumb up in silent congratulations, though his facial expression was suggesting that the younger Korean stopped flexing his ego before it got too inflated.

He stubbornly stuck his tongue out at his teacher before walking back towards his friends, only to be jumped on by his girlfriend, being ensnared in her milky white, thin arms, a pleased and proud smile plastered on the 18-year-old Japanese youth's vibrant face, "Excellent job."

"Thanks Mi," Hwoarang murmured with the same smile, hugging back just as tightly.

Look at that. He looks so… _happy._

_You are so fucking cruel… _Razer whispered in retort to the taunt, indeed looking on, feeling jealousy and despair stab her. It was almost as if karma was setting in. In the 3rd Tournament, she knew Hwoarang was jealous whenever she was in _his_ company… Being showered in _his _embraces, being teased affectionately by _him… _The Blood Talon was forced to watch it all… The way her face lit up when _he _smiled at her…

When _Jin_ smiled at her…

She breathed in heavily, wincing as a sorrowful sigh trickled from her lips. How could Kazama say that to her…? 'Do not touch me'? She knew he was hurting from what he had done… From what he had forced upon them both… And she now knew the cause. But surely Jin knew that Razer could fend for herself, and that she suffered likewise… Why not 'fight together' as they had said so many times…? As he had _suggested himself?_

No… This was too much now. She needed to be alone again…

Foreveralone.

_Don't say that! _The 20-year-old screamed in her mind, walking away from everyone at a slow pace.

And why not? The tainted one chuckled darkly, Kazama has abandoned you. Hwoarang has found love elsewhere because _you _were too stupid to realise that he felt exactly the same. You simply tossed aside his care because he could not look after you in _one _area. Then you found another monster, someone just like you. _You used Jin _to comfort yourself because of me, because he understood… I do not even know if Kazama is _aware _that you used him. And he left because he was genuinely afraid for your safety. I wonder, would you have done the same if I threw such nightmares at you, which _I am_ capable of by the way… Do _you _love him like he loves you?

Another laugh. It remained in her voice as she continued putting her host down, every word striking her as though it were a poisonous dagger, Where as the Blood Talon, even after all this time, after everything you did to him, still takes care of you like he always has – like a best friend, like a brother, like a lover. He still loves you… with _all of him. _They both love you with all of them… yet you love neither with the whole of your own wretched heart.

You've shot yourself in the foot, mortal. You are angry at Jin, and in turn, he is afraid of you and will not approach you ever again. As for Hwoarang? You broke his heart. And to respect your wishes and your feelings for his _rival, _a man he indeed dislikes, he _let you go__, _A lengthy pause, and for a moment she swore she heard Athane quietly think 'he would never let me go', but such a thought that strived for evidence fell upon redundant facts. Satisfied, the tainted one put forth a malevolent grin in her host's mind to illustrate her point, _Forever _alone.

…_I don't want to be alone._

Even so, you are stuck with me, fool. Deal with it. Neither the monster Jin Kazama nor the mortal Hwoarang will help you through the despair I have and will continue shovel into your system… no matter how hard they try.

And then that force came again and relaxed her completely, forcing words to spill from her mind subconsciously, uncontrollably, defiantly, in total protection, _Stop flexing your ego. You have no power over me. _

She paused for a moment, stopping what she was doing, before looking back over her shoulder to see Baek Doo San walking along side her with a small smile. Her mentor spoke gently, "Leaving the party already, dear?"

"…I just… needed some time away to sort out my head, Master. I can return now."

He shook his head and began to walk with her once again, hearing her feet slide over the ground, "I remember when you used to get like this, you would go to train, or go and sleep. Perhaps the former option would be wisest today. Use me while I am here. Let's go and release some of that anger and frustration of yours, shall we?"

* * *

**Stages:**

_Hwoarang__ v.s. Mokujin: Shinjuku, Tekken 4_

* * *


	16. A New Beginning

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Mhm. Another craptacular filler. Not as bad as past chapters I suppose… and hope… XD

_**Chapter Sixteen: A New Beginning**_

"You move so fucking gracefully," Seong-Hada said, "Hwoarang too. I wish I could fight like that. All I resort to is instinct… But you two are so well trained that I am, and always have been, just totally seething with jealousy…"

Razer drank more water with the slightest hint of a smirk. He had come to watch her train under Baek, as opposed to spar with Hwoarang as he had seen many times before in the streets. And instead of watching with a few comments here and there on how 'that was a sweet kick', or 'how did you do that', or 'you let your guard down too early', or anything else along those lines, he was watching in total silence. The energy he had been giving off was a mixture of awe, jealousy… and more awe.

"If you wish to fight as 'gracefully', as you put it, as us, SH…" The Greek began, screwing the lid of her water bottle closed, zipping the bag back up once it was in there, "Why do you not ask him to train you as well?"

"Like he fucking would! He's got two Iron Fist participants to keep in top shape, not to mention himself!"

A happy laugh came from the 20-year-old. It was a laugh the 19-year-old Korean was not used to hearing. Normally her laughs were so much darker… or just partly happy. This was so carefree. She was so different from coming back home, "You would be surprised with the amount of spare time we have on our hands between matches. One match a week. What are we supposed to do for the rest of the time? We cannot continuously train… or run around pointlessly… Xiaoyu has school, but still, you get my point. Go and ask him."

Amber eyes widened as she left the gym without a word, the door closing shut quietly behind her, and for the fifth time he noticed black ink coming from the bottom her tank top. He thought could see the tips of wings, as if the image was imprinted on the right side of her back. Shaking his head, he sighed, getting his head back into the previous trail of thought. As if someone like Doo San would train a fucking street kid like him. Hell he'd still be out there if it wasn't for the shit that happened back home –

_You will not think about that. You will not think about that, _He repeated to himself over and over, sighing.

But he couldn't help it, if only for a fleeting moment. Maybe if he was a better fighter, he could've taken at least one of them down and help the others escape. And here, at least, if he had the strength to gather up his voice, stand up and walk across to the 48-year-old Korean, he could prevent such a thing from ever happening again to anyone else he cared about. Nas-San, Jung-Keun, Chang-Sun… they were practically his brothers. Still, he had lived without them before… he could do it again.

So here he was now, helping Baek pack up some of the equipment he had brought with him from the army that was specifically used for training, hardly saying anything, only answering a few questions that were thrown his way. Even then he somehow managed to keep them at one to three word minimums without seeming rude.

And then once everything was done, after an eerie quietness, at lightning speed, a punch was thrown before his face from the side. Seong-Hada leant backwards, managing to avoid the damn thing, before hurriedly looking to his right through frightened eyes to see Baek smirking in a similar likeness of his Gang Leader.

Almost immediately after, a small kick to his legs came, hoping to trip him over. The younger man took another step back, clearing the shot, bringing up his shin in defence in case the attack did connect, which it didn't. Doo San's next kick was at the Korean's midsection, and SH found himself catching the blow on his forearms.

The breaks between the attacks suddenly died, and everything was just coming at him. Seong-Hada blocked as many as he could, and he found that when one of the 48-year-old's attacks _did _hit… it was actually gentle. It wasn't as if he had suddenly gone psycho and thrown himself head first into an angry and violent tirade, taking out some hidden stresses on the youth he didn't know. At some point, he had even found himself throwing a few counter attacks when the opportunity had arisen. Why? SH didn't know. He felt as if he had to.

"**Natural talent,**" Baek said with a large smile, ceasing his spontaneous attacks, bowing respectfully.

He fumbled to repeat the bow before straightening up, speaking, "**If I can ask… What was that for…?**"

"**I overheard you talking, so I thought I would take a look at what skills you managed to acquire in the streets...**" He heard the youth emit a quiet and shy 'oh' before chuckling, "**And so far, I like what I see. I could work with this. But you have to be committed. So no backing out, okay Seong-Hada?**"

The 19-year-old managed to smile back and nod appreciatively, realising that just as a chapter of his life entitled 'street life' closed, a new chapter, a new beginning was about to start for him… For the better, "**Thank you.**"

* * *

"Have you found anything yet…?" A female voice firmly yet desperately inquired.

Lei Wulong shook his head, sighing, "I'm sorry Asuka. I haven't gotten anything new in regards to the Dojo Attacker."

The 17-year-old Japanese girl sighed angrily, crossing her arms, "_Nothing?_"

"Nope. Not even my colleague, Detective Burton, has found any new information. He's just arrived in Japan and has set straight to work. We both believe the Dojo Attacker is here in the tournament, so keep your eyes peeled, okay?" The Hong Kong cop fumbled with his tie, a tad bored, straightening it up.

Asuka nodded, thanking him, and walked away from the front of the hotel, going off to the Mall, keeping a sharp look out for any suspicious activities. She would find the fucking bastard who did this to her Father and her Father's dojo… As for what she would do to him… Well… She'd figure that out later.

Wulong clicked his tongue, going over his notes, walking back towards the hotel, when he accidentally bumped into someone. Looking up, he indeed found it was the Korean detective. He smiled, "Greetings, Burton."

"Hey," Detective Burton remarked, adjusting his large brown trench coat and his light blue Gundam shirt. He held his bag in one hand firmly, and in the other his black brief case, most probably full of notes, "How've you been, Lei? I have not heard from you for a while."

"I've been alright," He replied, "I'm assuming you arrived at the front of this hotel to find me?"

"Yeah. So can you lead me to Hotel Leanne now? Then we can get cracking on the case."

"Certainly," With that, the cop put his notes back in his pocket, took one of the Detectives' bags, and began walking along with him, "How's the family?"

"They're groovy. Glad to get away from them for a while though. How are you doing in the tournament?"

"I haven't fought yet! My match is tomorrow. I'm up against Kazuya. Again."

"That's _so _not groovy."

"Mmm, tell me about it…"

There was hardly any silence in their trek across to Hotel Leanne. The two friends had not seen each other in years, and had barely spoken to each other over the phone, and had no time to send emails to one another, what with all their work and everything.

In their travels, they came across Hwoarang and a seemingly down Razer, pointlessly walking around the mall. Detective Burton strained to hear the 21-year-old speaking in quick Korean, watching a couple of people pass. From what it sounded like, the Blood Talon was content in challenging one of the passing people, and fixing the fight to get more money. As for Razer? He had no idea what she was saying. Must've been a game they played – guess what the other was saying or something.

From the depths of the busy people came an injured Ganryu, most probably having left the hospital from his embarrassing loss against Lili earlier that morning. By now, Wulong and Burton had stopped for a bit. Lei had gone off to grab a drink, and Burton was left here standing a few feet away from two key pieces of evidence from a closed case, two old 'friends'; holding his own bags for a bit, awaiting Lei's return.

Ganryu stepped up to the pair and pointed an angry finger at them accusingly, that finger itself trembling with frustration and rage at false promises long ago, "You cheated me money two years ago back in South Korea!"

Hwoarang blinked lazily, looking up at him, "…And?"

"I demand you give me more money!"

Razer looked to the Korean before looking at the sumo, "Like we are going to give you some…"

Anger began to build. Ganryu's fists clenched, "Why you –"

"Go away, Phat Farm."

The two best friends snapped their heads to their right, seeing Detective Burton walk over with his two bags with a pleased look on his face. The reaction he was pitching for was given, and the Japanese man gave the 33–year-old a long hard glare before biting out, "I beg your pardon?"

This distraction proved good in adding to his frustration, for Hwoarang had pulled out a hundred dollar note from his wallet. How he got it, the Detective did not press, but he assumed it may have been from an earlier hustle or something. He held it out to the fighter opposite from him, jingling it a little, "Hey, you want the money?"

Ganryu slowly smiled and progressively reached out to grab it, savouring this precious, precious moment… but before he could claim his long-awaited money, the Blood Talon had put it back in his wallet, and put his wallet back into his back pocket and coughed mockingly, "Ah well, I guess you don't."

Infuriated, the fighter left, before the three of them burst into giggles. Detective Burton placed both of his bags at his sides and adjusted his abnormally large glasses, "Hello you two! How've you both been since we last spoke?"

"Good," Hwoarang replied steadily, looking at his feet for a bit, "I got out of the army _finally._"

"And I returned home, and feel much better for it," Storm Wind answered, the corrupt angel within picking up sienna eyes looking at her, along with an affectionate smile, "I have managed to form a new beginning."

"Good, good. I'm glad things are working out for you. For both of you. Have you and Jin Kazama made amendments yet, Miss Athane? From what you last told me in your letter, you had both gone your separate ways…"

"Tch. No. I still hate his guts."

Of course you do. That would be why you attempted to kiss him and make up, right? Stupid mortal.

"Oh ho ho ho! **Hwoarang, this would be the prime opportunity to get with her.**"

"…**I have a girlfriend, Burton…**" He answered with a slight scowl.

"**Oh… groovy. Sorry. I didn't know.**"

He shook his head, "**Its fine.**"

"…**I just would've thought that –**"

"**Its. Fine,**" He bit out, his tone threatening and warning, silently demanding that the subject be dropped.

"Okay, okay! Geez, don't beat me up!" The Detective crowed, throwing both of his hands up in defence.

Lei finally returned from his search for bottled water, and came up to the three, drinking it slowly, giving a small wave to them all. He screwed the cap shut on the bottle before turning to Burton, "Let's go let's go let's go!"

Burton picked up both of his bags, holding them tightly, eager to get cracking on the new case so it could be solved, "Yes, indeed. A quick game's a good game. Catch you two later!"

With that, the cop and the Detective left the two best friends, who resumed their little game. He strained for a moment to hear Hwoarang's leaving remark, and he couldn't help but chuckle at it.

"**Hmm… I wonder how Burton would do in a fight. Looks like easy money. You up for it, Raze?**"

"Eh?"

"Never mind…"


	17. Sleeping Sun

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** OMG. A GOOD CHAPTER. Scratch that, a great one, in my opinion. You dunno how happy I was when I got this down, especially after all the crap I had been producing before hand X) lol. Anyways, enjoy it, because a chapter of this quality isn't gonna pop up for… I dunno. But it's close by ;)

_**Chapter Seventeen: Sleeping Sun**_

_There's the smell of fire in the distance, and an incredible ache in your head, along with pressure on your form. It feels as if you have extra limbs, and they are tired too. You know you're on the ground, because all you can feel is dirt and mud in your shaking hands, and sliding down your sweating face. It's raining. Each heavy rain drop strikes you quickly, and the crack of thunder overhead only adds to the throbbing pain in your head. _

_You swallow as fear crawls up your spine. Something isn't right here. Something's very wrong. You can feel it._

_The world behind your closed eyes is still unknown to you. Your eyes will not open, and they will not release the mysteries of the other world behind them. You indeed try, but they are shut tight, as if someone stitched them together, or someone managed to glue them closed. You try again and again, yet every time you fail miserably._

_You attempt to move, to sit up from your lying position, but the pressure on your form and the ache in your body proves too strong and powerful to ignore. You let out a simple whine and shiver again due to the cold. The sun must be sleeping. What caused this pain? Why will your eyes not open and show you the world around you? Why can you smell fire? What exactly is happening? Why are you afraid? _What_ is there to be afraid of…?_

_You breathe in, and exhale shakily. Blood. You can smell blood, so much blood, and from someone else aside from you. You can _taste _blood, from inside your mouth. Did you bite your tongue too hard when your head slammed into the ground? Did you lose a tooth or something? _

_After careful contemplation, you decide you can no longer lie face first in the ground. On the count of three, you decide, you will sit up and you _will _open your eyes. The other world's secrets will not be safe from you any longer. You will face them head on and deal with them as they arrive before you._

_One. Two. Three. Up!_

_Fail._

_One. Two. Three. Up!_

_Fail._

_One. Two. Three. Up!_

_Success! You are now somewhat sitting up. Not quite standing, but getting there. And your eyes are still not open._

_As you cough up what you assume is blood, you feel the pressure let up, and something limply sliding down your back. You shiver involuntarily, and once you your coughing fit passes, you turn your head, still trying to peel your eyes open. Movement is slowly coming back to you, though you still feel zapped and extremely weak, as though you put a hefty amount of force into an attack, or as if you were on the receiving end of a heavy attack yourself. You question for a moment how the energy came to you just to pry yourself up on your elbows. _

_Then darkness comes. It swarms around you, and you cannot help but feel in extreme danger. The sun sleeps, and there is no light to guide you anymore. You have to open your eyes. _Now_. Before it's too late. Before you are hurt further. Before you possibly die. And you _have_ to move._

_Why is it so hard to open your fucking eyes?! You will surely _die_ if you do not open them! Can you not feel the fear swallowing you whole? The darkness swarming around you, taunting you? That damn feeling that you cannot shake? That something has gone horribly wrong?_

_Wait… Is this why you will not open your eyes? In fear that if you do, something on the other side, in the other world, will impact you oh so much? You've lost yourself in fear already, you weak thing… Come on, do you want to let everyone else down? What if you are needed, and you are just cowering there? Your strength is being wasted._

_You breathe in again, and you can still smell fire, rain and blood. Liquid slides down your face. You know it is not sweat. Your head shoots down and to the right, where your eyes finally manage to unlock themselves. They stare down into the wet ground, still being pelted by rain, and you see blood happily pooling there, along with your bleeding and trembling forearms. Your hand finds the joy function as you bring your fingertips to the right side of your head, wiping away this liquid. You bring it back down to your line of vision and indeed realise it is crimson blood._

_You can see someone's finger tips in your line of vision. Your eyes widen slightly as you remember the limp limb, most probably an arm, sliding down your back, as you remembered pressure on your form, and as you smell blood that is not only yours. Who is it? Do you dare to look?_

_You can't look, can you? You are still paralysed with fear, even as you hear footsteps approach you, and a faint 'Oh God' from somewhere in the distance… Or is it in your head? Your eyes seal shut again, and you clench your fists, slowly turning your head to look. You can't control the uncertain whimpers in the back of your burning throat. The fear continues to paralyse you, to the point where you are unsure if you are even breathing anymore._

_Your eyes open a crack. Just a crack. The crack slowly widens, and you see lightning strike again in the back ground. Aside from that sudden burst of light, all you can see is your own eyelashes. And then a form. You can't quite see who exactly is lying there beside you, lifeless and limp. It is fogged up. You _swear_ you _almost_ know. A shiver consumes you, and it feels as if someone is about to grab you._

_And then you scream._

Razer jolted with a start, propping herself up on her elbows. She looked around the place to find that she was not in the dark, raining place that she remembered in her dream, which felt so damn real, but in her room. Thank God. The only common denominator between the dream and reality at the moment is that the sun's light is absent.

Did you enjoy that?

A swift punch in the thigh silenced the corrupt angel within. She hopped out of bed and noticed the time read 4:15 in the morning. With a growl, the Greek ran an unsteady hand through her light brown hair, and headed towards the kitchen to splash water on her face, and get a drink. She could still hear her own scream splitting through her head.

_Fuck you._

I did nothing.

_Bullshit you didn't!_

A tired, breathy chuckle, I did nothing but observe with you. And like you, I wonder who that person was.

She made it, turning the tap on with trembling hands, and placed both her hands together under the cold running water, shivering. This was the first time she had seen images along with the same scream, and she did not like it. The very thought of this nightmare still sent a bone-chilling feeling down her spine.

A gentle tapping at the door occurred as she splashed the water onto her face. A voice was heard on the other side, "Hey?"

"**Wait…**"

"You alright?"

"**Wait!**" She called back.

"Okay, okay!"

A rather faint, but most probably _very _loud (from the other side of the door, that is) 'shut up' was heard from a fellow tournament participant. After all, it was in the early hours of the morning, the sun wasn't even showing signs of being up yet, and most of them would still be asleep.

The Greek wiped the remaining water onto the back of her forearm, slightly annoyed that she did not even have a chance to get that drink, and trudged over towards the door. She looked at the doorknob, placed a hand on it, and turned it, looking up briefly to see Hwoarang standing there in only his boxers. She asked irritably, "_What?_"

"Heard you scream," He said simply, arms folded across his stomach, cold (well… it _was _winter).

She covered her face angrily, "For fuck's sake… I didn't, did I?"

"You did. I don't think anyone else heard though."

"How did you hear…?"

"_Hello?_I'm directly across the hall from you!" He jerked his thumb behind him, still looking down on her, "It was one of those short, girly, high-pitched screams, y'know? Like…" He made a pathetic attempt that left him snickering thereafter, shaking his head in both disgust at the failure and humour at how it sounded.

They both heard 'shut up' again. Figuring it was time to move this inside, the 20-year-old moved aside, looking down on her feet, sighing, then closing the door once he was in the room, "I am sorry for waking you, then. And Seong-Hada too, probably, for he is with you."

"He's still asleep last I checked, and as for me, I couldn't sleep anyway. What happened?"

She locked the door, resting a hand on the brown wood, resting against it, closing her eyes, breathing heavily, "Bad dream… Images finally began to accompany my scream. Nothing of extreme importance though. Merely a body lying beside me. I do not yet know who. My vision within the dream itself is not exactly clear yet."

He was still facing away from her, looking straight ahead of himself, into nothingness, "Are you scared?"

"I am awake and unafraid. The fear I feel at the moment is very minimal, and therefore can be considered non-existent, I suppose. And you are here, so I know I am protected. To be honest, I am much more curious as to what this dream is telling me, and who it was laying beside me on the ground, in the rain…" She turned back to face him, about to speak still in lines with the dream, when her green eyes detected something else, "Hwoarang?"

"Mm?"

"…Is that a tattoo on your back?"

A chuckle. The 21-year-old turned his head over his shoulder, "Like it?"

"Well… Yeah…" Her eyes roamed the single, left wing, marvelling at the detail on the feathers, "When did you get it…?"

"The day I got out of the army…" The Blood Talon answered, looking away from her and down at his ring, arms still crossed over his stomach, his voice sincere, serious and soft, "You say I am your angel… yet I have no wings to fly."

She gave a heartfelt, warm smile, walking towards him, reaching out a hand and brushing her fingertips against it, having a closer look for herself. It was an angel wing, like her wings. Just one. The design itself was intriguing. Each individual feather had been imprinted on the Korean's skin, "Why _one _wing…?"

"I don't _need_ another wing to fly. I'm _your_ angel only. No one else's… And when you're by my side, your love gives me the other wing I require so I can soar."

Razer smiled playfully, though deep down, she was touched and wanted nothing more than to hold him in her own arms and kiss him softly, like she once could, "Yeah. You would need that other wing… Otherwise you would be flying yourself around in circles like the idiot you are…"

The Greek took a few steps back and turned around, calling to him to turn around too, and pulled up the back of her pyjama top, still smiling playfully, amused by the look on his face, "I cannot be your angel and fly with tainted wings."

Hwoarang stared for a moment, shocked, "…You got the right one done!? That's fucked! _First_ we end up wearing the same shirt the day after Story Of The Year – fuck that was a horrible day – _then _we end up buying each other basically identical promise rings, and now _this_! STOP INVADING MY FUCKING MIND!!"

"Invade your mind? I have been doing no such thing. We merely think the same. I got mine done at home."

She had started to drop the top back down, still rather amused with his childish outburst, but felt him grab it gently, keeping it up. The Blood Talon took her wrist with his other hand and dragged her into the bathroom, still hyper at this discovery, though actually becoming tired otherwise. Once in there, he stood them both in front of the mirror; backs lightly pressed against one another, and smirked at the union, "Picture perfect."

There was complete silence aside from Athane attempting to stifle a yawn. Hwoarang chuckled and let her go, pulling her shirt back down for her, starting to leave the hotel room, "Anyway… I suppose I'd better go. I mean, it's what, almost 4:30 in the morning now…? And yeah. You need more sleep after that dream of yours."

Tired and troubled green eyes followed the 21-year-old up to the door, "You don't have to…"

He smiled a little, stopping, speaking hesitantly, "I really should…"

"Please stay…"

Her small voice… the one that always made him snap, the one that always made him melt inside… got through and cracked him, as per usual. Did she even know what that voice of hers did to him…?

Hwoarang locked the door and slowly turned around, walking back towards her, watching her rub her eyes tiredly. He chuckled again when the Greek yawned (yet again), and picked her up in his arms as if she were a child, carrying the 20-year-old back to her bed, whispering, "**You have no idea what you still do to me…**"

"In English please… There are no more secrets between us…" Storm Wind managed to whisper back.

He managed to take her hand and place it over his heart like he did two years ago, indicating the heartbeats that quickened whenever she was near, "You have no idea what you still do to me."

She smiled sleepily at him, closing her eyes, feeling sleep take over before he even put her down.


	18. Throw My Fist Up

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Back to the craptacular…

_**Chapter Eighteen: Throw My Fist Up**_

When Razer became conscious, she could hear stifled chuckling and she felt very warm. She opened one eye and looked directly at Hwoarang, who was leaning against the wall, trying not to laugh, smiling, "What?"

"You cocooned yourself. Again. I haven't seen you do that for _years_."

She had raised her head a little and indeed found she had wrapped all her blankets around herself in the night, indicating that she was indeed very cold whilst she slept. Athane groaned and slid further in the little mess she had created.

A sly grin dawned on Hwoarang's face. He leant off the wall, "Stick your arm out. C'mon."

Still in the sleepy mess, she did so, and instantly regretted it. She never learnt. It shot back to her form, "ASSHOLE!"

"What?" He asked innocently.

"It's cold!"

He had smiled at her, gesturing to himself, shivering, goosebumps still all over his body, "And I'm not? You were hogging the fucking blankets all night. At least you had _pyjamas _on, and all I got is my fucking boxers."

"That is your own fault."

"Hey, you were the one who screamed."

"I am _so _sorry," She drawled teasingly, frustrated.

"…You know, there's a day outside those blankets."

"I do _not _care. I am cold and I will stay here for the whole day if I must."

"Aw, c'mon! For God's sake Raze, at least give me _ONE_ blanket! Don't make me unravel you!"

He could hear her cracking her knuckles, and could see vaguely her fists clenching, "I'd like to see you try."

After more playful arguing, the 21-year-old had managed to convince her to get out, get dressed, eat, and so on, to go and watch Lei Wulong's match in the morning against Kazuya. They both felt sorry for him, knowing that he would be badly beaten. The Korean knew first hand from the last tournament, after all, and the Greek felt the younger Mishima's power radiate since they first met. Still, Lei threw his fist up, saying that anything was possible.

It was not even a challenge to Kazuya. Each punch was with precise accuracy – every kick was exactly right. Lei barely managed to launch a few attacks of his own. The fight was practically over in ten minutes, and for the entire fight, the 49-year-old was busy mentally speaking with Razer – mainly asking for her to forget what happened in the past, trust him and help him.

And every time she inquired the reason, he said the same thing – 'the problem is bigger than you could fathom'.

She never got a straight answer, and it frustrated her.

I have a fun idea for a game.

_What might this game be?_

How about you think up the biggest and darkest problem your meagre mind knows. That way you can think of something bigger and darker to even imagine what Kazuya may be speaking about. You know, I wonder what it is…

_I don't like that game._

Of course you do not… I do though. It amuses me. Go on then, think your worst.

_Play by yourself. I will not participate in this activity._

The other morning match of the day went to Sergei Dragunov. The new competitor had successfully defeated a Jack robot… Jack-5, this model was called apparently. Rumour had it that he was extremely silent throughout the whole match, and ever since his arrival at the hotel, had not spoken one word. Sure, he communicated – short nods, shakes of his head, but that was practically it. It was as if he had his tongue removed and wore an iron mask all the time to shield his emotions from the outside world, or something.

The afternoon match had gone to the once-thought-to-be-dead Heihachi Mishima. He had dispatched Bryan Fury quite easily. It seemed Bryan was not putting up much of a challenge in this match, as opposed to the others he had in the previous two King Of Iron Fist Tournaments, both against the Blood Talon. As for the 75-year-old man, well, nothing was new, aside from his sudden appearance. Many wondered what happened to him…

…Including his grandson, Jin, who had spied on the match the previous day from a distance, _well _clear of the battle's location. When did he manage to slip back to here, unnoticed? Why was there nothing about him in the media? And lastly, _why _did he return…? Was it just to get his precious Mishima Financial Empire back from whoever was in control now, or to finish what he started in the last match of the 4th Tournament…?

He stood here now, watching his adoptive Uncle Lee Chaolan walk away him and the referee, clad in his standard clothing, which was now stained with blood that did nothing but leer at him, taunting him at how he was defeated by Kazuya's son. Chaolan's once proud walk was now busted, limping and slump. The 21-year-old had to give him credit though… There was a reason Heihachi chose Lee to be his adoptive son… and, well, there it was. He unquestioningly knew how to fight. A savage beating was inflicted upon his youthful form, despite its futility.

His mind was wide open, and he was searching for the pin point location of where Razer Athane was. She had fleetingly been here and left just before the match was over, probably when she knew that Kazama had won. It amazed him… Their previous encounter left them both in pain. Just knowing she came here showed she still cared.

He did not locate his ex-girlfriend, so he kept all his other senses alert, making sure he did not run into her. Jin didn't want a repeat performance of what happened a few days back. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, and it wasn't as if he _wanted _to break up with her two months ago… But he had to, and in this King Of Iron Fist Tournament, he was reinforcing this fact by being distant and all for her safety.

With a mighty inhale of breath, he detected a two familiar scents as he too started to walk away from the battle area. They were hauntingly familiar… Like they were both family members… but there was no evil making itself obvious with one of the scents, which he found very intriguing…

It was rather pure. It _reeked _of an untainted family member.

He followed this particular aroma, extremely curious as to whom this individual was. He was led away from the hospital's direction, and further towards the mall. Each step was agonizing from Chaolan's blows. His priority was _supposed _to be getting himself fixed up, but he was far too curious for his own good…

Forget this 'family' member. They do not mean anything.

Jin shook his head, following it, _It reminds me of Mother… I must find this energy… It could _be _Mother._

Your Mother is _dead _in the cold. Fucking. Ground.

He punched a sore spot on his left bicep, something he unknowingly picked up from Razer whenever things got bad, coming closer and closer to the owner of the scent, until he found that he was in the Plaza, heading towards Café Macron. He heard a cry of 'yo, is that all you've got?!', and he knew that this individual's opponent was none other than Paul Phoenix, who he had fought once before in the 3rd Tournament.

"Cheese it, Brickhair!" The individual yelled. By the tone of voice, this pending family member was a female.

Finally, his dark brown eyes made contact with the slim female, who was fighting in _exactly _his Mother's style – from the first punch he had seen, to the elbow and knee strikes, to the kicks… Everything… Kazama-Style Self Defense.

The female wore a dark blue shirt along with light blue overalls, shoes and gloves. Her brown hair was a little above her shoulders, and her slanted eyes burned with determination. Her skin was a little lighter than his own, and the aura around her continued to remind him of his Mother, even as she grabbed Paul's head and slammed him into the ground.

Phoenix rose in agony, and was getting extremely tired. Once he found his footing, he attempted to launch another elbow strike, but failed miserably due to a slip in his footing. The Japanese youth seized the initiative and threw her shoulder into him, sending him flying again, until his back slammed against the brick wall opposite. With a final groan, the 48-year-old American passed out.

"Number 21, Asuka Kazama, wins!"

Kazama. He _knew_ it. And it wasn't any Kazama… It was _his _family.

Immediately he sneered at the devil within, _She is a family member. What did I tell you, Devil?_

And what are you going to do about it? Who cares?

_I care._

Asuka threw a fist up in the air, victorious, before turning on her heels and walking off elsewhere, a smile painted on her face. Her form slinked past the crowd of people who massed, supporting both competitors who did not care for the gathering, where she received a few pats on the shoulder.

She passed directly before Jin, who was near the back in isolation. She did not expect him to grab her by the arm gently and give her a look that could pierce her very soul. She narrowed her equally chocolate brown eyes at him, "Buddy, do you mind letting me go?"

"**Asuka Kazama…**" He whispered desperately. He could see his Mother's features in Asuka.

The 17-year-old furrowed her eyebrows and spoke slowly, "**What?**"

"**You are a Kazama.**"

"_**And?**_" Her voice was bitter, unfeeling, angry.

The 21-year-old released her arm and began to walk with her slowly, unsurely, "**I am too.**"

"**I'm sure there's **_**plenty **_**of other Kazama's around, **_**Jin,**_" She recognised him from the 3rd and 4th Tournaments.

Frustration swirled up within him, "**What is your Father's name?**"

Once Asuka's fists clenched, he realised he had hit a nerve. She clenched her jaw. The assailant would fucking _pay_, "**Takuya Kazama, brother of Jun Kazama, a 2****nd**** King Of Iron Fist Tournament participant.**"

He smiled a little, looking at his shoes as he walked, "**I am Jun Kazama's son.**"

"**Bullshit.**"

"**She raised me alone in Yakushima. Uncle Takuya sometimes came to visit... He would take home some of Mother's pastries, because he loved her cooking… He never stayed long, though…**"

She indeed remembered. The angry demeanour vanished as quickly as it had arrived, and she looked to her left, where Jin walked, and smiled, "**So if you're Jun's son, then that makes you none other than my cousin!**"

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a hand sticking out, as if awaiting a hand shake. He reluctantly took it as they were walking, inwardly sighing, inwardly smiling, inwardly sneering at the devil within, _Take that, monster._

What happened of keeping your distance from _everyone _so they did not end up my potential targets? Or were you so desperate for a friend that you randomly grabbed the closest human to you, knowing that if he or she were killed, it would not matter? Heartless thing you are… Or are you hallucinating and you truly can feel Asuka's energy relating to that of your wretched Mother's?

The hand was released, now swinging side to side once again, "**How is good old Jun anyway?**"

_She reminds me of Xiao… _and _Razer… Put together… _He winced inwardly, both at that discovery and at the fact that she mentioned his Mother. Suppress, suppress, suppress… The key to survival. Contain everything you are feeling, because it does not mean _anything _to those around you, whether they know you or not.

"**She… She was murdered… six years ago…**"

An honest frown, "**Agh, that sucks. Sorry.**"

Jin lightly waved his hand in dismissal before putting them both in his pockets, "**Why are you fighting…?**"

"**Oh… **_**revenge…**_" She partially threw her fist up in the air before looking at her cousin, "**It's a long story. Let me explain. Dad's dojo was -… Oh wait, you **_**did **_**know that Takuya had a dojo… Right? Well if you didn't, now ya do. **_**Anyway, **_**as I was saying…**"

The older Kazama simply listened to his cousin prattle on. He could not hide the ghost of a smile that was on his lips. Still, he could smell that other tainted individual… Somewhere deep down, aside from Asuka, aside from Kazuya, aside from Heihachi… he could smell another blood relative. He truly wished he knew who.

* * *

**Stages:**

_(Previous Day:_

_Sergei Dragunov__ v.s. Jack-5: _Autumn Temple, Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection

_Lei Wulong v.s. __Kazuya Mishima__: _Heaven's Gate, Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection

_Bryan Fury v.s. __Heihachi Mishima__: _Underground, Tekken 4_)_

_Jin Kazama v.s. Lee Chaolan: _Shinjuku, Tekken 4

_Julia Chang v.s. __Christie Monteiro__: _Statue, Tekken 4

_Paul Phoenix v.s. __Asuka Kazama__: _Mall, Tekken 4

* * *


	19. Away From Me

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** I. LOVE. The beginning of this chapter. And a little after. I'm sorry for making you guys wait for so long but the original version I had of this chapter was of unacceptable standards, in my eyes. I won't have you lot reading anything of mine that's short of the best I can produce. So, here's the revamped and much-fucking-better Chapter Nineteen :P

_**Chapter Nineteen: Away From Me**_

Muscular legs functioned powerfully as the being took long strides across Ground Zero. The dirt moved beneath his feet, went between his toes, and through such contact, he could not help but shudder. It had been so long since he had… _felt… _such small things. How every grain shifted, moulding his foot in the earth, and how a few strays stuck to the bottom of his feet, falling away when they could not hold on any longer.

His tired, aged eyes took in the new world around him for the first time on such an observant level. Everything had been so different in his day… So different. He was away from everything he ever knew. Sure, things had not advanced as far as he and every other individual thought they would, way back when, but still, the progress between times was enough to make him crack a morbid and lonesome smile.

After a few more silent minutes slipped by, the individual now found himself standing in the direct centre of where the final match would be. One fighter against another… but he would not be participating. No. He would watch on in stillness, not daring to make a move until he felt the right opportunity present itself.

_Someone _had to stop him… Just _someone. _Even if it was more than one person, for his strength surpassed that of an ordinary, singular life form. Two people. Three. Four, even… As long as he was outnumbered. They had to stop him before his thoughtless evil went too far. Hell… technically, it was not even _his _thoughtless evil… But if they stopped him, then this particularthoughtless evil would cease. The world would be okay. _This _world would be okay.

He lifted his hands and peered at them through dull eyes. So old, so fragile… so weary. Look what he had become. He had spent so long by himself… that he almost didn't recognise himself when he saw his face in a mirror for the first time since the unpleasantness. And even now, looking down at his wizened hands, he still felt as if he did not know himself. He was even surprised he remembered how to write…

His hands began to shake, just as they began to clench at his own accord. The shaking soon turned violent, and he looked up at the darkening sky, quietly laughing sinisterly to himself. His breathing was becoming strained. Thinking was an effort. His senses were passing over. He was losing control of them.

The eyes that had seen so much pain, had seen so many people, so many problems, slowly closed; and one thought managed to present itself as darkness consumed every part of his mind, body and soul, _Hurry, my friend… _

* * *

_The King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5 Roster – Round Two_

5 v.s. 24

8 v.s. 12

18 v.s. 22

11 v.s. 23

14 v.s. 31

6 v.s. 7

15 v.s. 17

29 v.s. 32

21 has the bye.

"For God's sake people, who's number 31?!"

Kazuya's smirk remained brandished on his face as he watched the young Kazama girl wave the roster sheet around psychotically. She was failing in getting the other fourteen people's attention, for they were busy talking to one another, sharing a laugh, sending death glares to one another, and so on. He and his son were the only two paying attention. He could tell Jin was listening because he could see him on the right side of the room.

"GUYS! We can either do this _quickly_ and screw up the matches, or we can do this _right!_" chimed Asuka angrily. She crushed the sheet in her hand slightly and pouted in frustration, though inwardly, she was quietly smiling to herself, glad that she had the bye this week. It would give her a good, long, rested week to recover from Paul's attacks.

The younger Mishima watched as nearby, a slender arm clad in frilly white clothing shot up for a brief moment. He watched as a lot of the participants turned to look at her. The owner of the arm soon spoke up once she had the majority's attention, the previous hand now going through her long blonde hair, "Oh, number 31? Why that would be me."

"Then next time say so, _sweetheart,_" She hissed, her tone all _but_ saccharine, "You're up against Feng Wei, who we have already established his number 14…" She could tell by the look on this 16-year-old girl's face that she did not approve of her opponent, who she had just spotted crossing his arms. The girl began to open her mouth in protest, but the Japanese fighter cut her off, "Sorry _Princess, _but you can't change who you're fighting."

Lili blinked repeatedly before sauntering off, her middle finger up in the air, the gesture aimed directly at Asuka. The gesture cracked a grin on Kazuya's face, and it did not leave until the Monaco girl had passed him and went out the double doors.

He continued to watch as her brown eyes drifted further down the paper, "Alright… Who is number 6, and who is number 7?"

Christie and Steve raised their hands, before looking at each other and cursing under their breath.

"Take a good, long hard look at each other. You're fighting."

Friends fighting friends. That is never pleasant, Devil crowed with a dark chuckle.

Nearby the Brazilian and the Brit was Razer. She smiled sympathetically towards her two friends, before pausing for a moment, looking directly at the holder of the Devil. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, even as she eventually turned her head away when Asuka began to call numbers once more.

I wonder how you will get her to help you.

"15 and 17, put your hands up!"

Only one hand went up, clad in a grey glove. Asuka furrowed her thin eyebrows, seeing her cousin's hand reluctantly fall down. She sighed, clearly frustrated, and rested her hands on her hips, "Jin, are you 15 or 17?"

"15…" He replied uneasily from the back, his dark brown eyes still staring at his shoes.

"Okay then. Who is number 17? Put your freaking hand up!"

A dark chuckle emitted from within himself. Kazuya shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturned slightly in a smirk, before turning to leave. That was just like this opponent. He knew _exactly _who he was, and where he was. He even caught his gaze as he passed out the double doors like Lili before him. The 49-year-old had no reason to stay anymore.

When no one raised their hand after a few moments, after Kazuya left, the martial artist shrugged her shoulders, "Then that's _that _person's problem when they turn up to the wrong match. We can laugh at them then."

Number 17, who was right at the back, disguised, laughed to himself before also going to leave.

"Lastly, 29 and 32."

Eddy Gordo, who was talking with Christie and Steve, raised his hand, along with Sergei Dragunov who was standing by himself on the far right. The Brazilian took one good, long hard look at the Russian before smirking confidently. He shouldn't be too hard… His Sambo fighting style would be no match for his Capoeira.

The young Japanese girl put the roster back on the front desk, "Alright, that's it everyone. Off you go."

As they slowly disbanded, they began to ponder how difficult it would be to battle their opponents, some of whom had never seen the other fight before. The other battles that had been matched together included King v.s. Baek Doo San, Nina Williams v.s. Ling Xiaoyu, Kazuya Mishima v.s. Hwoarang ("Shit!" Hwoarang had yelled. "That would be what you are in, _again_…" Kazuya had replied mockingly), and lastly, Wang Jinrei v.s. Razer Athane.

There was only one fighter that had not been matched up against another, and it was here Jin Kazama knew that a repeat performance of the 3rd Tournament's grand final would ensue. He was up against Heihachi Mishima, his no-good Grandfather, the no-longer-mysterious (at least, to him) number 17.

He watched his cousin weave past the fighters and meet up with him out the back of the dispersing crowd. He could immediately sense frustration within her soul, and knew it was because a majority of their fellow fighters were being very uncooperative. He patted her shoulder supportively, though smiled awkwardly, "Good job."

"I am _not _doing that next week," She growled, crossing her arms in a huff, walking away with him.

"Kazama."

Both Japanese people turned their heads, seeing Hwoarang approach them. He looked confused for a moment before strolling over, scratching the back of his head, still terribly confused, "…You're both Kazama's?"

"Yup! Jin's my cousin," Asuka replied brightly, slinging an arm around the 21-year-old family member.

"Well settle down there, Sunshine," He replied, both hands now in his pockets, amused.

"Cheese it, Red."

He glowered for a moment before looking at Jin, "I wish you didn't tell her I didn't like being called that."

"I did no such thing," Jin replied, feigning innocence half-heartedly.

He smiled a little, "Hm. Anyway, Razer wanted me to tell you that 'its nice you found another girlfriend already', but seeing as you're both Kazama's and you're cousins I don't think that applies anymore… But anyway that's not why I came over here. Judging by the thoughtful face you had on a while back… it looks like you know who you're fighting. Is it safe to say a Mishima?"

His gaze was past the Blood Talon to his Greek counterpart, who was standing around with their mentor. He managed to catch her eyes and looked away painfully. If she had said that comment, then… well… it appeared perhaps she was jealous. The very thought made him question things, "You are not as stupid as you look."

"Shut it. Is it Heihachi? I thought I saw him around in the gym a while back."

"I believe so."

"'Kay. So, mind introducing me to your sexy little cousin here?"

_SLAP!_

Jin was chuckling, "You deserved that. And her name is Asuka."

"You're lucky you're a girl…" He grumbled, rubbing his stinging cheek.

The younger Kazama folded her arms, "Pleased to hit you, Pervert."

"The pleasure's all mine, Sunshine."

"**Hwoarang!**"

It had been Baek calling, probably from the front desk, "Aw… shit… **What?**"

"**Training.**"

He rolled his eyes, giving a small wave good bye to the both of them, and turned on his heels, running over to where his best friend and his Master were heading, moving away from the two Japanese individuals. Great. Just what he needed today… To be beaten up some more… To have his body ache even more.

Fuck that slap.

"He's an asshole," the younger Kazama murmured with frustration, leaving with Jin.

"Whatever you think, Asuka… But if he is an asshole, then why is he helping me…? Do you think I would let any random asshole come and assist me with… with a problem that I will not even tell my _best_ _friend_ about…?"

"Yes."

His lips twitched upwards into a small smirk, "Very funny…"

I wonder when you _will _tell Xiaoyu.

_I refuse to put her life in danger because of _you_…_

Oh. Well, too bad. Stop looking at your feet and look _up._

He slowly did so slowly, gritting his teeth at the thoughtless evil that was brewing within him, at the screams and whimpers of pain that were filling his ears once again; before smiling a little, if anything just glad to see her face, and knowing that deep in her brown eyes, Xiaoyu did miss him… even if she was the only one who did.

The petite youth closed the gap between them and locked her white arms around him, eyes burning with tears of frustration. She smiled a little, resting her cheek against his chest, when the embrace was returned. With a shaky sigh, she spoke quietly, "Jin… Stop hiding… Please, _stop_ _running away _from us…"

_I am not running away from you…_

He smiled a little, patting her head, releasing her from his hold, introducing the Chinese girl to his 17-year-old cousin… But still, in the back of his mind, his conscious was screaming at him to get away from Ling, to tell her to get away from him, that she was in danger just by being around him… If she didn't leave, then surely sometime in the future he was going to hurt her… and he _would_ _not_ be able to live with that…

In his memory, she was still the adorable 14-year-old girl who reached out to him when he had shut himself off…

_I am running away from me._


	20. In The Memory, You Will Find Me

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Hahaha, guess what? I've been on FFN for a year, LOL! So to celebrate, here's two chappies XD

_**Chapter Twenty: In The Memory, You Will Find Me**_

The view of her ex-boyfriend with another female annoyed her.

"I thought you didn't care anymore," The Blood Talon had stated.

Oh. But you do. Weak bitch.

"Relax…" He had later remarked softly, though it was difficult, "It's just his cousin."

She said nothing but furrow her eyebrows and drink some more of her water.

Hwoarang had stood and walked away, having given up on trying to convince her otherwise, and left with Seong-Hada, going off to have a few drinks, or check out girls, boy talk, _something _along those lines… Anything, really. Training was long over, and they just wanted to relax. They would've liked Athane to join them, but with the way she was acting, that would not be a wise proposition.

The Greek had watched them go, hearing SH shout out 'HAMBAGAH TIME!', and thereafter looked at her feet quietly.

Baek had walked up beside her once the two younger Koreans left, "You alright?"

And this is where she was now, finding herself in random memories from random times that her heart generated uncontrollably. She just felt so lost… with everything going on around her. That force that tried to keep her smiling. Trying to better herself. Wonder how the tournament was going to turn out. Doo San returning. All but Seong-Hada being killed. Jin and her nightmares. Hwoarang being out of her reach. The darkness that was at this tournament.

She was stressing out, and she _knew _that the corrupt being inside of her was _not _doing anything.

"_I'm sorry."_

_Razer looked up at him, perplexed and surprised, "What for…?"_

_Hwoarang was still looking at the floor before him, eyes narrowed together as if trying to hold back all emotion, to stay completely cold, as if he was _losing _this battle to _stay _cold; hands clasped together, forearms heavily leaning on his thighs, "For being making you run away…"_

_It was hard for him to say that. She could hear it. She _knew_, even if it had only been four months since they met. He didn't want to drive her away… yet she did not know _why _he wanted her around. He was being such an asshole to her… She didn't really consider him a friend, because of the way he insulted her, the way he teased her, the fuck load of perverted comments… _

_But she wanted to, though she'd never say it. This lapse just showed that maybe they could be friends. _

So long ago… So… long… ago…

_Punch, kick, block, kick, dodge, block, punch, punch, block, block, block, block, hit._

_The defence chain was broken. The girl and the boy came at her with such quick speed, such precise accuracy, that Razer found difficulty in blocking. She saw pigtails swirl past her in a cartwheel, serving as a distraction, when the tall, Japanese boy smashed his fist into her side._

_With a growl, both her hands went to the injured side, holding it tightly, only to be kicked in the back by the young girl. She turned her head over her shoulder, her teeth gritting at an impossible strength, before realising the stupidity of her act. She was tripped over by the boy before her._

_Do you not recall what Baek always said? 'Never turn your back on opponent'. And yet here you are, turning your back on not one, but two highly skilled foes. You deluded fool… I thought you knew better than that, monster._

Xiaoyu… Jin… That fucking fight that started it all.

"_Cats or dogs?"_

"_Dogs."_

_A pause. He scratched his chin in thought, "Chocolate or ice cream?"_

"_Chocolate," She replied, still looking at her hands, not looking up at him._

_Hwoarang grabbed the top of her head and gently turned it so she was facing him directly, instead of looking at her hands. He spoke, "Raze, this game is supposed to help us get to know each other better, you know?"_

_Her green eyes locked onto the 13-soon-to-be-14-year-old's sienna ones, "I know…" _

"_So then…" He let go of her head, confident that her gaze would stay on him, which it did, and looked ahead of himself, "Why am I the only one asking all the questions? You don't wanna know about me? Isn't this how friends start to get to know each other? By asking a couple of questions here and there?"_

_Eyes brightened slightly, "Friend…?"_

_He looked at her for a moment before smiling sincerely and nodding, "Yeah. Friend." _

She was gently shaken and heard an elderly male speaking, "Razer, speak to me."

"What…?"

Baek came and sat down next to her. His face screamed concern, "You are drifting off."

_He adjusted his school bag with a small grin, "I take it that you are lost?"_

"_Yeah…" She admitted, shoving her hands in her pockets._

"_Follow me then, I was heading back to the hotel anyway."_

_Razer smirked, "You don't say, __**Snobby Rich Kid…**__"_

_Jin frowned and looked down, watching his feet, "What does that exactly mean…?"_

"_Means 'Snobby Rich Kid'. But I don't think its fair to call you that seeing as we're friends now, eh Jin?"_

The 20-year-old lifted her head a little, looking to her Master, "Mmm… Sorry… I'm just remembering stuff."

"What is bothering you? I have rarely seen you feel this troubled."

Athane shuffled a little under his gaze. She looked away, surveying the now empty gym, looking at the fading light that shone through the windows high above the wall opposite, "Lots of things, to be honest… Mainly how I have screwed myself over with all this…"

"What do you mean?" Doo San inquired, looking towards the same direction, arms folded.

"Hey Baek? Do you remember when…" A slight sad laugh, "Do you remember when Hwoarang used to stare at Kwon Hyori during training when he was fifteen? Heh… Remember when you used to get him in trouble…? That was funny."

"No, I don't remember…"

"Well, being in that coma must've knocked a couple of memories out of your head. He did it a lot…"

He smiled a little, looking at his student, "He wasn't staring at Hyori, you know."

The Greek's gaze fell from the windows to the wooden floors, finding herself in the memory again.

"_Hwoarang!"_

_His head snapped back from his right. He looked at Baek before him, rigid with slight shock. _

"_How many times do I have to tell you to stop looking away!?"_

_Sienna eyes faintly detected green ones fleetingly look at him from the right, the opposite end. Athane looked away from him thereafter, feeling pain burn her heart, and looked at the girl he was staring at, who was standing next to her. _

_She's really pretty. She can't blame the Blood Talon for developing an interest in her. What, with her long black hair, heart shaped face, angel smile, lovely brown eyes… She was any boy's dream, though every girl knew that she was a bitch. How could Hwoarang not know that she was a bitch? Was the male population blinded?_

_Why did her best friend have to fall for someone under his worth…?_

"Do not tell me he wasn't, because I know he was… Always at her…" She murmured.

"But he wasn't. He told me himself one night, by accident."

"Probably a lie."

The 48-year-old finally snapped, and replied, "He wasn't staring at Hyori, Razer! He was staring at _you!_"

She managed to choke out a response, voice quivering, "Lies…"

"Ask him yourself. And you know deep within your heart that it's true. And he still does."

Pause. Sigh. Breathe it in.

'And he still does.'

The tiniest of smirks appeared on her otherwise distressed face, _Take. That. You. Fucking. _Bitch_. He has not let me go, like I told you… Fucking take that! You are nothing but a lying and manipulative little sneak! Well know this, you _thing. _For as long as he loves me, for as long as he is with me, you will _never _freeze my heart!_

How Kazama once thought the same. And here he is, becoming colder by the second, fighting a losing battle.

A hand clench did not go unnoticed as Baek brought his legs up on the chair and crossed them, resting one of his elbows on his thigh, his chin in the palm of his hand, "You would stare back a lot, too, with your thoughtful face on. Do not think that just because I was teaching a class of thirty that I did not frequently monitor you two."

He continued on after he heard her chuckle a little, "See why I was surprised you were not with him…? I was counting down the days until he told you that he loved you. Every. Single. Day. And I was taken from you both before he even got the chance… Please tell me he has said something… Please tell me _you _have said something."

"Fear not Baek… We have spoken, even if it was only two or so months ago… We know of the other's feelings…"

"Then why…?"

Tears spilled, "It doesn't matter anymore…"

He heard her voice break, and his brown eyes had detected her with fiddling from something out of the corner of his eye, yet it wasn't until now that he felt pushed to look. He turned his head, grey hair moving slightly, and saw her prying at a blue locket that hung around her neck. Judging by the age on it, it mustn't have been too old. Hwoarang probably bought it.

It opened with a light click, Razer's nails scraping across it once the resistance gave in. He leant towards her, looking as well, seeing his two students on one side, from the 3rd Tournament most probably. He remembered Hwoarang showing him this photo on the plane to the tournament. He kept it in his wallet. The other side of the locket was blank, covered by what appeared to be a blank paper. It was when the youth grabbed this, that he found it was a photo indeed, and on the other side was the 20-year-old (18 in that shot) and another.

The older Korean looked up at her, seeing her return his gaze. She was staring to cry. It was a rare thing for him to see. Very few times did he ever see her cry. The Blood Talon, during their time at his dojang, never saw. She held out the photo to him, her hand shaking, "This is why it doesn't matter anymore…"

A moment passed before he recognised the boy in the image, "Jin Kazama?"

"Yes. Baek… We dated… And when Hwo found it, it ruined him. And it hurt me too, like you would not believe… But… where as my half my heart will stay with Hwo, forever… The other half previously sat with him…" She took it from him and put it back, facing up to look at her. Her fingers danced over the 19-year-old Jin, before suddenly snapping it closed and standing, grabbing her bag, walking off, "And… I suppose it still does…"

What are you saying?

_I can't hurt him anymore… And I won't let him hurt himself anymore. _

Green eyes closed, remembering roughly two months ago, feeling fingertips at her temples, and seeing the Japanese man sitting in front of her, eyes slowly opening, a pause, and four words slipping from his lips; as she returned from a memory she no longer sought to forget, but rather to accept and move on.

_He shook his head in compassion and spoke on a fractured voice, "…I am so sorry."_

'_So am I, Jin… So am I. I'm sorry that you're hurting. It's okay though. Because I'm here. And I'm gonna help you, whether you fucking want it or not. I won't leave you to drown in memories like I once did. I promise.'_


	21. Pushing Me Away

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** And with this chapter, I declare the craptacular stuff officially over. VIVA GOOD CHAPTERS!! XD

_**Chapter Twenty-One: Pushing Me Away**_

The icy cold air viciously snapped at the 20-year-old woman. Despite her efforts to keep warm, Razer still found herself shivering an absurd about, following the corrupt angel within's guidance in finding the Japanese youth she once called her boyfriend.

Her jacket was zipped all the way up, her hood was pulled far down over her head (even covering her ears), her scarf was tightly secured around her throat, and even partially over her mouth and nose. She wore _another _jumper underneath the jacket itself, and she had even borrowed Seong-Hada's gloves. Her fingerless ones weren't going to do much in this weather, but the Korean's spares would, for they had no holes. Still, she was freezing in the Japanese winter.

What makes you think that Jin will be out here at this time of night?

_I don't know… I just… have a feeling, that's all._

You did not feel him transform. He would have no other reason to be out here.

Athane disregarded such comments, her green eyes picking up on the tree that she had been by so many times in the last two years… When Jin first kissed her, when Hwoarang _almost _confessed his feelings and gave her the locket, both in the 3rd Tournament… And when Jin returned after his absence in the 4th Tournament.

She squinted and indeed saw a figure sitting there, as if hunched over. She breathed in silently and indeed identified the individual as Jin. Quietly, she tip-toed over towards him, praying that he wouldn't identify her at all.

The youth strained her ears to hear music.

_And Wait Forever To Be Told –  
__I'm Forever Alone._

She quietly sighed to herself and looked down at the ground. She remembered listening to this Earshot song with him, and him grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently, saying that there was hope for them, before he stood up to be victorious against Nina Williams in the second match of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 3.

The silhouette of the 21-year-old shifted a little. She squinted some more to see that he had turned his head a little, as if listening to something Devil was saying, or to clarify a scent… And it was here she realised that she may have been sprung. How she hoped that was not the case.

No muscle in Razer's body moved until she felt safe. Slowly but surely, Jin turned away, looking back at the ground. She could hear the music slowly dying down, and also slight sniffling. It appeared that he may have been crying.

And then suddenly he stood up and ran off to his right, off into the darkness as quickly as he could. Storm Wind also ran after him, managing to find life in her frozen limbs. She ran and ran and ran, and no matter how fast she tried, it seemed that he was just faster. She called out through the icy wind that was picking up, "Jin!"

He turned a corner, still following down the path, heading towards the Plaza. She cut across the snow on the ground in hopes of catching up with him, but this still failed. She almost slipped a few times, and this clearly did not help her. It definitely hindered her as she tried to stabilise herself and continue after him.

If you do not hurry up, you will lose him for sure.

Athane made it onto the pathway, and continued running past mostly closed shops. There were scarcely any people here, and those who were still around did observe two Iron Fist competitors run by, if only for a brief moment.

She called out again, her voice drowned out by the howling winds. With an agitated sigh, she tried once more, and was met with the same failure. It seemed Jin would do anything to avoid her… and it hurt her. But at least now, unlike their last painful and spiteful encounter, she understood why he was doing this.

For her.

The Greek's legs were screaming at her to cease such straining activity, but she pursued onward, even as snow began to unhurriedly trickle down from the heavens. Her blue scarf continued slipping down, and the icy wind hit her in the face with full force. Heh, it reminded her of the first year at the dojang, underestimating the weather…

He was starting to slow down, she noticed, though he was clearly running as quickly as he could, though fatigued. She smiled to herself slightly, realising his frame was why he was slowing down. She quietly thanked God that she was so small and nimble, and that she was still able to keep going. She was closing on him, and quickly.

They were now out the other side of the mall, leaving the dim lights behind them. The 20-year-old's green eyes tried hard to focus in the darkening area before her again. If it were not for the occasional lamp post glittering diagonally down the pathway, she may as well have lost Jin to the darkness and the cold atmosphere.

'_Kazama! Stop!'_

Not even mental communication was working. He was still ignoring it. There was only one thing left for her to do, and that was to speed up, despite the current agony the being within was pushing onto her emotionally, and what she was inflicting on herself physically.

The snow picked up, falling that much faster, that much harder, just as the wind continued its onslaught. It seemed the weather was taking its toll on both Iron Fist participants. Razer was shivering uncontrollably, and Jin had slowed completely to a jog. If she squinted, the Greek noticed that his limbs were moving as though frozen, or recently thawed. It was so mechanical… It really was so mechanical.

She froze in her spot when he tripped over from fatigue, and waited for him to stand back up. But he didn't. She waited some more, and still he did nothing but turn his head to the right and sigh, defeated, hood off. The chase was now over. Razer had the person she was desperate to see, desperate to talk to _properly, _before her.

So why will you not step forth and claim your prize? The corrupt angel within inquired.

Hesitantly, Storm Wind took one step forward, but then stopped. Another four and she'd be standing behind Jin.

Three steps.

Two.

One.

The 20-year-old dropped to her knees and wrapped her slim arms around his heavy frame, lifting him from his stomach, though struggling, and onto his ass. He wasn't making it any easier by using non-violent resistance, making himself as heavy as he possibly could be. He continued looking at his feet, now sitting cross-legged in the middle of a path, eyes still partially wet, headphones still on.

God… How two months had aged him… It was only a little on the outside… But on the inside…

She took out the headphone farthest from her and popped it in her own ear, sitting next to him childishly, legs brought up to her chest, chin resting on her knee caps. She was still shivering an absurd amount, but tried her hardest to stay there with him. She immediately recognised the acoustic tune.

_The Sacrifice Of Hiding In The Lie.  
__The Sacrifice Is Never Knowing –_

The music was suddenly shut off, her headphone taken away from her ear, and his as well presumably. She scowled inwardly. Dammit, why did he have to go and turn Linkin Park off…?

"Why are you here…?" He demanded weakly, looking at his shaking hands, "You are not safe…"

There was no need for a verbal answer. She grabbed the top of his head and turned it so he was looking at her. Razer winced inwardly, seeing the despair in his brown eyes. They told everything… They were a window to his soul. And he was fucking suffering… Whether it was because of the devil within, whether it was because of her cold attitude, because no one was helping him fight the Gene…

"You are not safe," He remarked again, a tad stronger, trying to turn his head away, failing.

She smiled a little, simply, and pulled his head onto her shoulder, as if trying to loosely establish comfort. She knew it was a long shot, and she knew it was highly unusual, considering they had been avoiding each other at all costs, considering she was being such a bitch, considering he was being so… protective. She hoped he wouldn't push her away and run off. She wanted to say that she was sorry… though… she didn't know how.

It seemed her comfort was accepted. He reluctantly gave up and sat there, shaking as much as she was, though tears were forming in his eyes. The Japanese man's body stiffened when he felt Storm Wind's arm crawl around his form, hugging him loosely, and the words she thereafter said caused the tiniest of smiles to form across his pale face… not to mention have his heart swell.

"But _you're _safe. Because I'm here. And I don't care if you won't let me shelter you… because either way, I will."

A slight whimper as he tried to stand up again and get away from her, but she held him there, her other arm now wrapping around the front of the 21-year-old. He lifted his head a little, looking up, seeing her smirk down on him in a way that immediately reminded him of Hwoarang and from what he had fleetingly seen of Baek. It morphed a little into a sadder smile. He closed his eyes when she rested his forehead against his, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I am the one who is sorry…"

"But you were doing it to protect me. You weren't being an asshole like I thought you were."

"Hwoarang told you…?"

"Jin… He tells me _everything_. Telling Hwoarang something is like telling it to my face… We made a pact… a long time ago… when I first told him of the Gene… to tell each other everything, no matter how stupid or ridiculous or honest it was… The only thing we never told each other was our feelings, until the last tournament, if you recall. And that's how it's always stayed, and always will stay."

A slight snort as she pulled him closer towards her, "You'd be surprised about some of the stupid stuff he'd tell me, just to get me to laugh. 'I just had a wank'. 'I threw my rubber at the teacher'. 'You've got nipple stag'. Fuck it was annoying sometimes, but hey, whatever. Still I am glad you told him… Because I don't think I'd be here with you now if you didn't tell him. So… thank you. But I'll be okay. Trust me."

He finally managed to pull away, and stood shakily, taking a few steps back, tears welling at his eyes once again as he spoke, "Razer, do you not see…? It is not you I do not trust through all this… I trust you with my life…"

She stood too, taking steps towards him, so determined to not allow his escape, "Then what is it…?"

"I do not trust myself."

Kazama turned away from her, running an unsteady hand through his hair, thereafter pulling up his hood, walking towards the mall again, intent with returning to the hotel. He left her there to ponder on what he had just said, on the thoughts that continued attacking him, as he breathed in a sob.

"Yourself…?" She whispered, rubbing her eyes.

He did not answer and continued walking away, putting his headphones back on, wanting nothing but to be alone and control his emotions before they got the best of him… So Asuka and Xiaoyu did not have to worry about him, so they did not have to see how upset he was inside.

The Japanese man just left her there in the cold. He would have gone over and taken her hand, walked her back to the hotel with him like he had done a few times before… But no. He wouldn't. He couldn't. His emotions were already hard enough to control. Devil could come out at any moment and kill her. Then her screams would become real.

Razer fell back to her knees and sat there, holding her legs close to her form once again, watching him go.

'_Please stop pushing me away…'_

_Why I Never Walked Away,  
__Why I Play Myself This Way.  
__But Now I See,  
__That Destiny,  
__Pushes Me Away._


	22. Understand The Problem

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twenty-Two: Understand The Problem **_

He just left you there to freeze, and poorly decipher what he meant. How gentleman like, yeah?

Her green eyes spotted Ling hugging her Grandpa, before stepping away to the side, clearly apprehensive and afraid of what he may suffer. Wang Jinrei did nothing but pat her back awkwardly and gently (which was still sore from her victorious battle against Nina Williams earlier in the day, somehow), saying something Razer couldn't quite hear from this end of the arena.

He does not trust himself. Then how does he live?

The referee's '3, 2, 1, FIGHT!' went unnoticed as she just stood there, blankly staring ahead of her, still trying to understand the problem and overcome the current chaos in her head… He wasn't running from her and Xiaoyu and everyone else. He was running away from _himself_…

But no matter where he will turn, he will find himself staring back at him. And then what?

_He'll be running forever, then…_

A mighty punch collided with her side. She jumped back, stunned, and winced in pain.

'_Pay attention.'_

Her eyes scanned around. The voice was too firm and too deep to be Jin's… Then that meant –

'_Kazuya?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_What –'_

'_Incoming low kick.'_

Athane followed his words and sidestepped, arms still up in defence for a second kick that may have arrived, which did. She threw two left punches and two left kicks at the Grandpa, who like Heihachi, obviously knew how to fight. Wang took a few steps back, watching as the final kick missed his form, and came at her with an elbow strike.

The 20-year-old guarded against it, wincing as it collided with her forearm, which was sure to leave a hell of a bruise, and sidestepped again, lifting her left leg, and quickly delivering two flickering left kicks named Eruption. Both connected, sending the 105-year-old backwards a little.

'_What're you doing here?'_

'_Side step.'_

She did so, seeing the Chinese elder to crash both feet into where she had been previously standing. Presumably, he had jumped into the air to get such a profound impact, seeing as the ground around the field cracked under his feet.

'_Thanks.'_

'_Attack the left leg, mainly the ankle.'_

'_Why?'_

'_He injured it on landing.'_

Knowing not to question his skill, she leant back as Wang unleashed G-Clef Cannon, the main blow only barely catching her stomach. She leant back up once the final punch went flying, and grabbed said arm, using it as a lever for the Falcon Dice Kick throw, thereafter conducting Spinning Left Axe Kick on the weaker ankle.

"Do you have to be so hard on him?! He's 105-years-old, Raze!" Xiaoyu screamed angrily, crossing her arms.

She was going to answer back, feeling guilty for causing a _good _man, who was a relative of one of her friends, such pain, when Kazuya popped up in her head again, _'Ignore her. She is a distraction. Focus on your goal.'_

'_Why are you helping me…?'_

'_I need your help, remember?'_

'_And _when _oh _when _will you tell me _why_…?'_

'_Look out!'_

Two fists side by side smashed into her stomach. Razer doubled over, falling to her knees for a moment, groaning in pain. She looked up for a moment to see Wang smiling a little forlornly, before kicking her twice with his good leg. The impact of the attacks sent her a fair few feet away.

Fool! Pay attention. If you were focusing then you would not have copped such a hit.

The Greek rolled her eyes and stood again, eyes scanning her friends that had come. Hwoarang had clearly winced, as did Seong-Hada. Baek's arms were folded across his chest, as though he was thinking as to why her performance was currently so sluggish. Xiaoyu was on Jinrei's side this time, which was understandable, as was Miharu. Both were enthusiastically cheering him on. Julia was absent, as she was still fairly injured from her match against Christie, and Lei was also still injured from his match against Kazuya. Christie and Steve were with them, though Steve said he would try to come near the end of the match.

She looked further behind them to see Kazuya standing there in the clothes he used to wear in the last tournament – blue pants, light bluey grey shirt, sunglasses, etc. He was leaning against a wall, squinting to see what was going on. He was close enough to communicate with her, yet far enough to avoid detection by her friends.

'_Tell me what's going on.'_

'_I trust you will figure it out.'_

With an infuriated growl, she sidestepped the running Wang, watching as he stumbled forward when he missed his tackle target. She was behind him now, and made use of it. She grabbed the elder's arm and conducted the Slaughterhouse throw. His wince once his body landed, once her heel slammed into his rib cage, was loud.

'_WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?'_

'_Sweeping kick.'_

Athane jumped over the coming attack, clearing it completely, and hurled her right foot into the rising form of her opponent – Scorpion Kick. She slipped from the Right Flamingo Stance and stayed in Right Stance, keeping a keen eye on anything the Chinese man before her may try, whilst still screaming at Kazuya in her head, _'If you want my help, then tell me what the fuck I am gonna be helping you _with_, you Mishima dog_._'_

Jinrei rolled over, rubbing his face, and tried to stand, "Ughhh…"

The 20-year-old narrowed her eyes, still awaiting his next move. Down the other end of the field were a few shouts that fell silent upon deaf ears. She waited and waited, until finally the 105-year-old found life in his old body, and stood, though he was somewhat unbalanced. His aged eyes pierced into the forest green ones of his adversary.

A small smile came across his features, "You're good. Very good, in fact."

Razer considered spitting out a 'I wouldn't be here if I was shit, gramps', but opted against it, realising he was going somewhere as he curled his long, white beard at the end of his thin, bony fingers. His hunched form inched closer towards her as he continued speaking, "You are a worthy opponent… But please understand, it would be better if you surrendered now than put yourself and your friends in more danger."

"What danger?"

As he spoke, it seemed as if Kazuya was repeating himself to her, though much more clarified. There was a great evil in this tournament, and that it had to be stopped at all costs otherwise the world would never be the same. This time though, where as the younger Mishima told her to use his imagination in terms of what this evil actually was, Wang was noticeably specific.

"He was an old friend of mine… He wrote to me, seeking for help, asking for me to come and help him be free of the demon."

_Free of the demon…?_

"When Hon Maru exploded two months ago…" He noticed the Greek's eyebrows furrow at the mere mention of Hon Maru, "…the blast which presumably killed Heihachi Mishima, which is a blatant lie by the way, for he is here at the tournament himself… my friend was freed from his long lasting prison. He took control of the Mishima Zaibatsu and opened this tournament once he regained his strength."

"What is this evil friend you speak of?"

"Understand, Miss Athane, that it is not my friend himself who is the threat to this world… It is the devil within."

_Oh my God… Devil Gene…_

"His name is Jinpachi Mishima."

She paused, remembering her and the other King Of Iron Fist tournament participants gathered in the foyer, listening to the receptionist read out the first round matches. She remembered breathing in heavily, identifying Jin, Kazuya, and two other relatives of theirs… If Wang Jinrei claims Heihachi lives, then that explains one of those scents. And then, the other must be…

"Jinpachi?" She pressed quietly.

Wang nodded, taking a few steps closer. He had long stopped curling his beard around his finger, "Yes. I must help him, Razer… And in order to help him, in order to free him from the demon that chokes him daily… I must defeat you."

A mighty uppercut was launched, catching her off guard, sending her into the air and backwards. The Chinese elder ran forward, shoving both fists into her thigh as she was airborne, thereafter leaping into the air. He frowned as she landed on the ground, amongst the grass, and as he landed on her stomach with both feet, slamming as much force into them as he could. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt the Greek, it was just Jinpachi had more priority to him. He had to do something about it, and quickly, even if it meant he had to put up with the screaming youth beneath him.

He could hear her name being called by a male, followed by a string of Korean swears, and thereafter a firmer voice requesting that he settle down, in English. He identified the firmer voice to be Baek Doo San, a fellow King Of Iron Fist Tournament 2 participant, and so therefore, the other male must've been her best friend.

'_On your feet.'_

Athane mindlessly obeyed Kazuya's words once more, throwing Jinrei off of her violently. She stood on her own two feet shakily, her arms perched on her thighs. She continued to rise, hands now off her thighs, clenching into fists, before she ran towards the individual on the ground. The 105-year-old found his way to his feet too, but the moment he did, he was tackled down, and pinned down. After some slight manoeuvring, he cried out in pain, feeling his arm be tugged on viciously, until a larger pain arrived. She dislocated his arm.

"Razer, how could you?!" Xiaoyu screamed furiously, "He's my Grandpa!"

Storm Wind took a few steps back, her teeth clenched behind her lips, and waited for Wang to stand once again. He indeed made an attempt, but failed. She crossed her arms and strolled over, squatting down to his level, "Sorry, but I can't let you win. I gotta get through these rounds to start a new and better life… not only for me, but for my two friends. I applaud your resolve… But I have to continue on. I'm not letting some fairytale stop me."

It wasn't a fairytale when you thought Jin was dead, was it?

Wang sighed, trying to stand up again, speaking, "It's not a fairytale… From what Xiaoyu told me, you believed Ogre was one too. And look what had happened. You lost your mentor. You lost one of your friends. It was only by a miracle you got both of them back, and you are so fortunate for that… But… This time, like last time, you don't understand the problem here… You fight to start a new life for you and presumably those two young Koreans with Baek… But there won't _be _another life if you don't let me through to the end!"

Her cold demeanour came through again as her eyes narrowed into slits. Her words bore nothing but cruelty. Each letter stabbed him as they came, "You're an old man, Jinrei. It's about time you started living like one."

He didn't hear the referee shout out 'number 23 wins', nor did he care. He knew he had lost. He knew she was too strong for him now, what with a dislocated shoulder and a severely injured ankle… But the spirit in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She wouldn't stop trying, no matter what. At least, he supposed, he lost to her, as opposed to anyone else who didn't have that fighter's will.

The Chinese man attempted to sit up again, but this time found he was helped by his adversary, one hand keeping his back up, the other pushing him up by the shoulder. Wang looked to his left, a slight frown still on his face for failing his friend. He listened to her speak, "I will accomplish your burden."

The 105-year-old heard the soft steps of his granddaughter come towards him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, confused. He noticed her look up to Xiaoyu for a moment, who was helping her hold him up, and then further away from her, as if trying to find someone who was at the match earlier, though he or she may have now long left. He looked too, seeing a man with tall black hair, blue pants and a bluey grey shirt leaving, and another with blonde hair approaching. It appeared that when he looked back at her, her forest green eyes were trailing the leaving figure.

"I have a better chance than you ever would… with what runs through my veins."

Razer stood and walked away, clutching her stomach.


	23. Till I Collapse

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twenty-Three: Till I Collapse**_

Her search for the mysterious man known as Raven, her opponent in the first round of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5, went on for a whole day. It was not until the day after her match against Wang Jinrei did Razer locate the man, talking to his Headquarters quietly out the front of the hotel. And still, even as she stood a few feet away from him, she was still wondering why she was even bothering…

Maybe because she believed that this path, this time, would give her the result she was searching for… Freedom. A small smile appeared on her face as she recalled the Zaibatsu Raid, and how hopeful she and Hwoarang were when they got into the laboratory, looking for Genocell, her potential cure for this curse.

Then she scowled, remembering the failure, remembering all of her hopes going under. She slowly approached him, her arms folded across her stomach, waiting for him to finish up the conversation. It appeared when he laid his eyes upon her, he stopped talking completely, his finger leaving the communicator button. A tiny smirk appeared on his face as he opened his mouth, that deep voice booming, "Can I help you, kid?"

An annoyed growl, "I am not a kid. I am 20-years-old…"

"'Young adult' then," He mocked.

"You mentioned in our match… of a corrupted Angel Gene."

"What of it?"

Razer couldn't believe she was asking this. Her nails dug into her forearms sharply as the words trickled from her mouth, "Why exactly did you opt to tell me? And more so, what do you and your Headquarters want from me?"

Raven smirked a little more, his back still firmly pressed against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, one of his fingers tapping against his muscled arm, "I wasn't aware you did not know… Hence my shock when you started screaming at me. I would have thought that the entity has informed you by now, considering she has been there with you throughout your entire life. But any who, my Headquarters believe it would be in everyone's best interests to purify your Gene so you and her can take on the evil behind this tournament."

_Jinpachi… Of course. They must know. Maybe I can get more information from them…_

They would be smart to leave me alone. I do not need purification. I am fine the way I am.

The Greek scowled as all emotions but anger subsided.

I am perfection.

After some silence, she pestered further, her voice small, and pretending to be 'unknowing', "What evil?"

"I myself do not know. It is classified information, so not many people in this Organisation know."

_Well well well, would you look at that…? Ninja Boy has honestly not got a clue. He was sent out just to find me… How can he not be so curious as to why I am needed? As to whom I will be fighting against in a better form…?_

Perhaps because they actually do not know. This is all a bluff Athane. They are not here to help you or damn me.

A scowl dawned across her features. The Greek bit back the urge to slam her fist into her side, or physically harm herself to silence the creature within. She furrowed her eyebrows and spoke, "What is it you need me to do?"

Surely you will not take the bluff, monster…

The mysterious man cocked an eyebrow up, and peered at her from the top of his glasses, before pushing himself off the wall, both hands now dangling limply by his sides. He raised his head a little before flicking it to the right, walking off in that direction, "Follow me, Miss Athane."

* * *

She was led through a nearby forest, past the mall, past where Jin had left her in the cold… She had been asked to cover her ears as he said a secret access code that allowed him onto his… ship? Whatever. It was a monstrous piece of mechanics, and it made her eyes widen in surprise. The 20-year-old had never seen anything like this in her life… And it was quite impressive.

The youth stumbled forward as the door closed behind her with a loud hiss. Razer looked around, furrowing her eyebrows. She identified two other individuals in the small area, both in pure white lab coats. One was female. She had her medium-length, curly red hair pulled back in a bun; though there were a few loose strands she was busy tucking behind her ear with her thin, deathly white fingers. The other was male, lightly tanned, and had dark brown hair that was simply all over the place.

Both looked to Raven. The woman spoke, her freckled nose wrinkling, "She came along willingly?"

"Surprisingly so, Crane."

"Shall we commence the experiments?" The male asked, standing, clipboard and pen in hand.

Razer's eyebrows furrowed, hearing Raven emit a quick 'yes'. He didn't mention anything about this –

What have you gotten yourself into!?

A hand was gently placed upon her back. She looked to her left, realising it was the other male. He gestured towards the back of the room, where Crane sat. Green eyes spotted an empty chair next to a messy desk. The only reason the Greek managed to move was because of the pushing force on her back. Every step was tiny, almost afraid.

And it wasn't her who was resisting.

You can take all three of them! They are no challenge. Turn, kick them away and run out of here. _Now_.

_Fuck off._

Two hands now braced her shoulders as she was sat down in the seat. The Greek's eyes darted around for a moment, seeing all three individuals crowding around her. The one closest to her, Crane, smiled at her, but rather than it being a sweet smile, it looked plastic, "Put your arm out in the table."

Her eyes narrowed into slits quickly.

"_Now._"

Her voice reminded the Iron Fist participant of Nina. Razer rolled back her light blue sleeve and flung her right arm out on the table, an arrogant scowl on her frustrated and slightly panicking face (again, only due to the entity within). Crane's blue eyes also narrowed as she grabbed it and flipped it so the underside was facing up.

Crane spoke again, grabbing a box from under the table, thereafter extracting a syringe amongst other equipment. Her mouth raced whilst grabbing the utensils, "We have to conduct a blood test. I hope you do not mind."

More silence. The redhead looked up for a moment, pausing her actions, seeing the Greek flick her head in a silent 'alright'. It must have been something she picked up from the streets, this attitude… Or perhaps it was her way of dealing with what was inside of her. She looked hard into her green eyes, making sure.

"C'mon," Razer growled out from behind gritting teeth.

She nodded and stuck her hand out, "Eagle, get me a cotton bud."

The man finally had a name – Eagle. What was with this organisation and having bird code names…? What was the boss' code name? 'Phoenix'? Athane shrugged the thought aside, watching as Eagle did as he was told, thereafter standing back along side Raven, his trusty clipboard and pen still in hand.

Storm Wind watched as Crane went about taking a sample of her blood. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest swiftly. It felt as if at any moment, it would go crashing through her rib cage. In reaction, she pinched her left thigh, hoping no one would notice, and spoke to the corrupt angel within, who was generating this feeling, _Relax. You were not this fretful when Kazuya and Heihachi held us prisoner in the Zaibatsu. Why are you so worried now?_

The Mishimas wanted me _free… _Not _destroyed_ like these people do!

She feigned innocence, _Really? I had no idea. I like this situation better than the last one._

You little bitch…

The conversation made the test go by rather quickly. Eventually, the needle was removed from her arm, and Crane fiddled around a little more with it, putting a bandaid over it once she was done. Eagle's voice rose from the silence, "We're going to send this sample back to Headquarters. We need to make one hundred percent sure that what you've got is an Angel Gene… gone bad, but nonetheless."

Razer nodded a little, closing her eyes as she folded her arms, elbows on the table. She began to feel sick, _Stop it…_

Not until you leave this place!

Her head began to swim. She brought one hand up to her head, eyebrows furrowing, _Stop it._

She was given the same answer, only more desperate, as though a shriek. A sly smirk dawned on her face. She had never seen the creature so panicked before… Not even when she felt Jin being shot to death through the Gene link… And all these people had done so far was a blood test. A measly _blood test._

When her eyes had reopened, Crane had long finished fussing over, and now, like Eagle, had a pen and clipboard in hand. All three individuals were looking at her with fleeting concern. Raven spoke up, "You alright?"

"She is panicking and as a consequence I am feeling a bit unwell."

"We've barely done anything."

A grumble of annoyance, "I am aware of that."

Eagle came to stand beside Crane and spoke, "We'll need to ask you a couple of questions in regards to this thing…" He saw her nod vaguely, watching her hand slowly come back down from her head, and took that as the silent 'go ahead', "Name the warnings for a potential transformation."

"High amounts of anger and frustration, red eyes, the feeling of being suffocated… I think that's it…"

As he began to take notes down, Crane pitched in, "What do you receive upon transformation?"

"Wings, horns, claws, jewel in the middle of my forehead, chains, tribal markings…"

That feeling of sickness overcame her again. She hunched over the table and put her head in both hands, trying to breathe in and out steadily to keep the feeling at bay. She didn't enjoy this at all. Her eyes slid closed again.

"Can you change at will? Can you revert it in its early stages?" Crane inquired.

"In extremely seldom cases, and no I can't."

Eagle took over for a moment, his pen running across the paper hurriedly, "Has she murdered anyone?"

Hesitance. She opened one eye and looked up to Raven, trying to see if it would be wise to talk at all. With a sigh, she closed it again, fingers digging into her skin, "Yes… Plenty of people… Plenty of innocent… harmless… _loving _people…" A small whimper escaped her throat as she remembered the day that the filth had almost killed Hwoarang.

The dizziness started to kick in as the questions continued to bombard her, again from Eagle. He ran his fingers through his messy brown hair and cleared his throat, "How long have you been aware of her presence?"

"Eight years…" Athane could vaguely feel her phone vibrating her thigh.

For God's sake Raze, if you do not walk out of this ship right now, I will do it myself!

_Fuck you._

Crane's shrilling voice disrupted her from her thoughts, "Judging by how you fought against Raven, we presume if provoked further, you would have undergone transformation. Is this a fair judgement? We noticed your male friend with the red hair seemingly knew what was going on. Does he know of this problem?"

"Probably… and yes… He's known since he was sixteen."

GET. UP. AND. LEAVE!

"He was… the first person I… told…"

Hearing, touch and sight melted away as she finally slipped out of consciousness. It took all of the corrupt angel within's strength to do it, but she finally got what she wanted on her part, even if it was only to live for another day. Razer's inner struggle ended in a draw, with both sides collapsing from the exhaustion of the battle.

**Author's Note:** Why, you ask? Why Raven? Because I think Raven can be a useful tool in any fan fic, so I chose to show what I thought of and can do with him here.


	24. Wandering In The Shadows

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** o.o; Man I feel like a robot with all the sudden stories I've started posting XD Oh well, lol. Sorry to bring bad news but you're actually catching up to where I am in terms of writing, so... I've gotta slow down in posting, alright? Sorry guys XD But anyway, thanks for one hundred reviews! You guys are the sex :D

_**Chapter Twenty-Four: Wandering In The Shadows**_

_Don't you _dare_ try and pull that stunt on me again… Because I will emerge victorious over you… Every. Single. Time._

"_Nothing you say will stop me trying to fix you up properly. And everyone will be happier for it!"_

_So you continue to fight when you know you have no chance of success. Amusing, mortal. You have changed since I was first activated… Vastly. You have changed so, so much in these last six months, though. A shame I cannot have the timid, frightened youth that I once leeched from, returned to me… Because if that were the case, know that I would have won that last mental battle for control, and slaughtered all three individuals._

_The 20-year-old scowled at 'Devil' Razer across from her. They were both still physically unconscious, and didn't know what was going on around them. They were in the Greek's mind, and had been yelling at each other ever since the outside world was temporarily shut off in the shadows of her mind. _

'_Devil' Razer stood from her sitting position jumped the short distance across to her host, grabbing her by her hair, the other clawed hand poised dangerously close to her throat, __Why don't you just lie down and submit like the worthless monster you are? __The grip at her hair tightened. She grinned maliciously as her host winced in pain, trying to pry the grip open, __You will obey my commands from here on in. Understood?_

"_I think you will be much happier wondering what life would be like with _yourown_ form, as opposed to mine… Your own hands to soak blood in, as opposed to mine… Your own legs to walk with, as opposed to mine… Your own voice, as opposed to speaking through me as if I am some useless puppet!"_

_She reared her right leg forward and smashed her corrupt form across the face with it. She felt the clawed hand let up on her hair, and took a fair few good steps back, on the defensive, awaiting the move of the creature opposite her._

_She watched the tainted version of herself step forward and conduct the Total Outrage attack. Razer parried a few of the hits, but missed the others, and was struck. She put her arms up before her, hoping to shield herself from any further attacks that could possibly come her way around her midsection and face. _

_Anticipating the move, 'Devil' Razer kicked her legs, the metal top on her boots doing more than enough to injure her host. Her host's guard lowered, and immediately, her hand shot out and grabbed her by the front of Athane's light blue shirt. With ease, the corrupted angel lifted the youth into the air, __I wonder what type of reaction I will receive from everyone when I dispose of your conscious, and live in your empty shell…_

_A swift kick to her stomach winded the creature, but it did not make her buckle over or release Storm Wind. She continued to smirk, fangs vaguely glittering, as she pulled back her hand and narrowed her claws together, with the intent of stabbing her. She took aim for the host's heart, knowing her life was not threatened here, and that if she successfully executed this attack in this state, she would have what she always wanted…_

_A body to call her own._

_Well then, there is only one way to find out, isn't there? No point wondering any longer… I have wondered for too long, whether I was dormant or active. Know that from here on in, your body is mine, and mine _alone.

_She launched the attack, only to find, to her dismay, that it went straight through. As she pulled her hand back out of her host's mental form, she could see the tips of her claws rapidly fading away, and her arm, along with the rest of her form, was now slowly becoming transparent. 'Devil' Razer looked from her hand to Athane herself, and scowled angrily, her plan now foiled, __You are waking up._

"_Until next time, monster."_

Green eyes unlocked themselves from that world. They flickered around for a brief moment, taking in the new environment around. The Greek youth sighed, realising she was in her own hotel room, realising Raven must've brought her back from his ship. Tiredly, she placed her hand to her forehead. The back of her hand came into contact with something warm and moist. She grabbed it and looked at it, realising it was a wet cloth.

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her face with both hands, tossing said cloth off the side of the bed in frustration, and whimpered out loud, like a lost child, before breathing in shakily, _I hate you…_

I hate you too, mortal. 

She heard footsteps approach the area, before a pause arrived. The pace of each footstep thereafter increased and then come to a sudden stop. She heard someone's knees click nearby, presumably due to the act of squatting or resting on their knees, and then felt her hands be gently removed from her face. Razer kept her eyes closed, and sighed a little with gratitude when the cloth was placed back on her head, when she vaguely felt fingers run though her light brown hair, when she vaguely heard the individual whisper soothingly.

"Rest, my angel."

* * *

I cannot believe you are doing this… What are you, an immature teenager?

A day after awakening in her hotel room being nursed back to a decent state of health by Hwoarang, Razer had decided that she still wasn't going to give up on Jin. She checked the roster earlier this morning, and discovered he had a match against the mysterious number 17 at an unusual place… The main definitive feature, she noticed, was a large stone dragon encircling the main place.

The grass came up to her knees as she hid behind a rocky wall, praying not to be detected by Jin's superior scent, or by his opponent's (who she presumed to be Heihachi, should Wang have been telling the truth, and providing hardly anyone knew who number 17 was), vision. It was the last thing she needed at the moment. She figured she would be safest wandering in the shadows.

Unfortunately, on the other side of the arena, sitting on the rocks, well clear of the battle, were Xiaoyu and Asuka, presumably there to cheer Jin on. If she stepped out of her hiding spot, or if the two girls looked really, really, really hard, they could spot her. Then what would she do? She was already pretty sure the Kazama male had sensed her presence, but dismissed such thoughts.

Still, Athane had to smirk at the look on Xiaoyu's face when she saw the opponent, who _was _Heihachi, stand before Jin. It was as if she were seeing an old ghost – a mixture of shock, relief and disgust. From what she had told the Greek one time, she entered the tournament to help Jin by going back in time ("…Right…" the 20-year-old had said) and stopping Heihachi from throwing Kazuya off the cliff.

A call of 'three, two, one, FIGHT!' had Razer's attention return, seeing Heihachi's dark smirk set in, as he slammed his right palm into Jin's guarding forearms. The Japanese youth had side stepped as well, and managed to grab his Grandfather's arm, throwing him over his shoulder, watching as he slammed into the stone ground.

The elder Mishima rolled out of the way of an axe kick, wincing as the red shoe cracked the concrete. He stood with a sweeping kick, successfully knocking his clumsy grandson to the ground. The hood went flying off gracelessly, and an angry fighter's face was made apparent, now no longer hiding in the shadows. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth was in a thin, firm line. His eyes were burning with hatred.

Hurriedly, Jin got to his feet and closed the distance between himself and the Murderer, running. Heihachi readied a mighty punch, but before he could release it, he was on the ground again, his tainted grandson on top of him, slamming his fists into his frail old face. One particular punch hit his nose, and felt as if it were severely damaged.

He could feel the youth manoeuvre on top of him, hoping to grab his arm, but once he realised what that Kazama filth was doing, he shoved his foot into his stomach, pushing him off, before standing quickly. Just as he got to his two feet, Jin was on the offensive again, hoping to hit him with a well timed Laser Cannon. Heihachi seized the first fist by the wrist and pulled him forward, almost off balancing his opponent, before grabbing his form, leaping into the air, and slamming him back into the ground on his back.

"**Painful, isn't it?**" He sneered, taking a step back, avoiding a rising kick. With a guffaw, he came back attacking, only having those attacks unfortunately blocked, "**You can see why your wretched girlfriend had screamed so much, all those matches ago…**" A strong kick to the midsection caused his foe to buckle over, "**I wonder if I can make you scream as much as she did. I'd love a repeat of that match…**"

A Right Roundhouse Punch greeted the 75-year-old in the jaw, sending him backwards into the stone wall.

…_Razer's _stone wall.

Move out of the way! The wall may shatter and the debris may injure you. Furthermore, do you _want _to be seen or something? Move your worthless ass out of the way, monster!

She took a few steps back, seeing the impact crack the wall a little, and scuttled off, hiding half way behind the rest of the pathway, praying that neither of them could see her; even as Jin stormed towards his Grandfather and did a move she thought was awesome – Savage Sword. She had to remember to try and learn that move by herself sometime.

"**Leave Razer out of this… You are fighting me, not her…**"

She scowled a little, hearing her name, realising the old man must've referred to her at some stage.

"**Come on Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!**" Xiaoyu crowed, shaking her milky white fist, "**You can do it!**"

Asuka's eyes narrowed. She nudged the Chinese youth beside her and pointed to what she assumed to be a woman hiding near where the action was. Squinting, she could see that the woman was clad mostly in black, and had light brown hair, "**Who is that?**"

Ling looked too, and her eyes widened. She rubbed them before answering quietly, lowly so Jin couldn't hear, and explained that this was unusual to see her even here. The Kazama girl nodded, crossing her legs, watching as the Greek walked out a little further, watching better as the tussle continued.

The battle raged on for another ten minutes. For every hit Heihachi landed upon his grandson, the 21-year-old landed two. For every taunt Heihachi threw, Jin slammed a foot into the elder's head. For every throw Mishima conducted, the tainted youth matched it. Both were exceedingly tired now. It truly was like fighting the 3rd Tournament's grand final once more.

Jin was thrown into the wall once again. His head smashed against the stone, and he groaned in pain, feeling blood trickle down from the back of his head. He rolled onto his right side, taking short sharp breaths, holding his face with his hand, sighing, barely hearing the referee start counting him down, barely hearing Heihachi's cruel laughter, barely hearing Xiaoyu and Asuka's cries to get up and pummel the old man's ass into the ground.

'_Rise.'_

Yes… Rise, Kazama, and meet your doom at the hands of your Grandfather, Devil quipped gleefully.

Brown eyes opened, ignoring the taunt, and he stared directly in front of him, seeing half of a female form hiding behind a wall. He squinted, seeing it was the 20-year-old who had popped up in his head, and sat up a little, still trying to see better. His vision slowly cleared, and a feeling of calm washed over him.

He smiled a little. It had been so long since he had that feeling…

'_You can do it. Get up.'_

After a slight nod, the 21-year-old was now on his feet, much to the frustration of his tired Grandfather. He looked away from Razer, feeling nothing but happiness and calm (the latter presumably from his Mother, whose spirit may have been around) within him, and ran towards Heihachi, seeing him slip into stance.

He weaved to the left, avoiding another punch, and grabbed the Mishima elder, who was dizzy, by the arm. Holding said right arm in place, he conducted the Double Face Kick tiredly, huffing as he threw all of his effort into the final kick, which connected squarely with the 75-year-old's temple.

Heihachi, now on the ground, did not move thereafter.

"Number 15, Jin Kazama, wins!" The announcer yelled.

Xiaoyu and Asuka shouted for joy and jumped off their observational spot. They ran over to the weary fighter, and congratulated him, the former hugging him gently, the latter patting his big shoulder. He smiled a little once again, the smile itself now glad to be out of the shadows. He was very appreciative of their support, and looked to where Athane had been, breathing in deeply not only to get the much needed air to his lungs, but to see if she was still here.

He couldn't find her wandering in the shadows.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Jin Kazama__ v.s. Heihachi Mishima: _Dragon's Nest, Tekken 5


	25. Can't Repeat

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twenty-Five: Can't Repeat **_

A nervous Hwoarang continued biting his nail. He didn't want to admit it, but he was actually scared of what would happen in the coming match against Kazuya Mishima (unlike last time, where he was just too confident for his own good), who surprisingly, was late to the match. Maybe fate would smile down on him, and the 49-year-old wouldn't show up, automatically making the match his.

Behind him, Razer stood close, whispering things to him to try and keep him calm. She could tell he didn't want to do this, that he was afraid, but knew he would do it anyway. It was the typical old Blood Talon. He'd still do something, no matter how petrified he was. Even in the end, the thing that scared him the most, telling her his feelings… he still did it anyway, irregardless of the circumstances and how painful it was.

The next words that fell from her mouth with a sigh, after a large inhale of breath, did nothing to settle his nerves. In fact, they flared them up again, to the point where he almost ripped off his whole nail, "He is coming, I can smell him…"

"Shit…"

"I'm sorry. Just do your best, and be careful this time… Don't let him just… _hit _you… whether you're depressed this time or not. Use the arena walls to your advantage. Watch out for his foot stomp if you are on the ground, and for God's sake do not allow him to hit you with that spinning punch…" It came as no surprise to the 20-year-old that he did not return her comforting hug, however this gesture would've made his fear apparent to the others, "You will be alright. I know you can do it. Do not let last time's experience sway your confidence."

As she left to stand outside the arena, Hwoarang looked over his shoulder, his finger away from his mouth, watching her leave. Once she stepped down the stairs and sat between a distracted Steve (talking to Christie next to him) and Seong-Hada (who was looking at his hands), she caught his gaze, smiling a little, looking back. Abruptly, he looked away and sighed, now resting his head in his hand, too many thoughts on his mind.

A thud caused his sienna eyes to flicker up. The 21-year-old saw two feet clad in red foot guards and framed by white gi bottoms now stand opposite him. The Devil himself, Kazuya Mishima, has stepped foot into the ring.

The walls of the 'cage', he called it, finally went up. This was a fucking stadium fight. The organisers chose to hold his match here. The Korean briefly wondered if it would be televised. He quietly hoped not. He didn't want people all around the world to see him get beaten to a bloody pulp by the same man for the second time in his life…

"18 vs 22."

The Blood Talon sighed and slipped into stance, bouncing back and forth, holding Kazuya's gaze as he too went into stance.

"3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"

A mighty right punch came his way. The youth blocked it, his eyes flickering for a brief moment with what appeared, to the enemy, to be fear. Kazuya chuckled to himself, drawing his fist back, before crouching down low, delivering two well timed spinning kicks to his foe's legs. The first one tripped the Korean over a little, but the second one missed completely, for he had moved backwards.

Hwoarang's eyebrows furrowed worriedly as he ducked a high kick. He then felt an elbow smash into his back, right between his shoulder blades, near his neck, and with a frustrated cry, he fell to the ground. The 21-year-old hurriedly looked up through squinted eyes, lying on his stomach, and saw the Mishima youth about to slam his foot down onto his back.

Taking heed to Razer's warning, he rolled out of the way. The echo of his foot coming into contact with the metal was loud, and it made his head ache. Hurriedly, he stood up, dodging another couple of attacks that came his way. He ducked once more, lashing his left leg out, the attack catching his opponent, before he rose up again, conducting Tsunami Kicks, seeing the host, the origin of the Devil, buckle after the final kick.

His body raced faster than his mind could comprehend, and before he knew it, the Blood Talon had driven Kazuya to the ground with a Misdemeanour roundhouse kick. It continued to race on, thereafter conducting a Spinning Left Axe Kick, followed by a similar move, only jumping into the air to conduct it.

Thereafter, the Korean had kicked him into the air, and kept him there with a few well timed punches and kicks. The longer he can keep him there, the longer he can keep those fists and feet _away _from him… the safer he will be. He couldn't afford to lose to him once again, couldn't afford a repeat match… and not for his pride's sake.

For her. Because she needed him to win. She needed a better shot at winning, and getting the money so they, and Seong-Hada, could start a better life than the one they had been given for the last couple of years. And Razer couldn't, _wouldn't _be able to do it alone…

And he wouldn't _let_ _her_ do it by herself… Not while he could help it.

The end of his Hunting Hawk kicks finally arrived, and Kazuya rolled out of the way before Hwoarang could continue his onslaught. He felt a sharp kick come to his left leg, the same leg the fucking prick had damaged really badly in the last tournament (and truth be told, it didn't really recover. There were still times where it hurt). His knee buckled, where said kick had ensued, and it served enough distraction for the Japanese man to land a square punch at his opponent's jaw.

Panic started to override his system uncontrollably, something he wasn't used to. The 21-year-old straightened up and side stepped, attacking with his right leg once again, tripping up the Mishima youth, before grabbing him while in Right Stance and conducting his Jacknife throw. He could hear his heart pounding furiously.

"Relax, dude!" Came the shrill of Christie. She must've been able to pick up on his current panicky state.

With a large exhale of breath, he again tried to repeat the action, however it was anticipated. He growled, still trying to settle his breathing and calm his nerves, before Kazuya was again on the move, sending small combos his way. He hurriedly tried blocking as many of the attacks as he could, but to no avail, as most connected.

His footing and concentration started to slip as his control continued to shatter. No matter what he did, Hwoarang couldn't help but slip back into panic and instinct mode. As his eyes darted from each of the Japanese man's limbs, waiting to see which one would move to strike, only to have another hit him, and to have him somehow block it… there was always a dark laugh coming from his opponent.

"You fear me."

Sienna eyes narrowed into slits, refusing to give a verbal answer, and silently praying that his reaction didn't give one. A mighty kick came to his midsection. The Blood Talon gritted his teeth and took a few more steps back, clearing any attacks that thereafter came his way. A hurried left punch came at him, and he caught it, throwing it away in a parry, only to be met with a knee to the stomach, and another punch to the gut.

He tried to steady himself, tried to breathe, but was met once again with a knee to the stomach, winding him of all the air he had managed to just gather. He could feel his left leg giving in again, and before he knew it, the 49-year-old had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and thrown him across the arena.

The metal was hard against his back as he slammed into the wall. The 21-year-old slumped to the ground, resting on his knees and on one hand. The other was preoccupied with holding his stomach, hunching forward, tossing between passing out _now, _or throwing up.

Through narrowed eyes and past heavy breathing, the Blood Talon saw his adversary stand before him once again, and heard him speak through his chuckles, "Didn't you learn your lesson last time? Or do I have to beat it into your pathetic excuse for a soul once again?"

A mixture of spit and blood met his scarred cheek. His amused smirk morphed into an angry one. Kazuya grabbed Hwoarang by the back of the shirt and lifted him up into the air, slightly surprised by the absence of escape attempts, and listened to him talk, ignoring Razer's angry yelling in his head, "Can't repeat the past."

"I'll see what I can do," He teased grimly, slamming him back against the wall, delivering an onslaught of attacks with his spare limbs, using his right hand to keep the youth there, so he couldn't escape. Each attack further wounded the fiery Korean, and further had the Japanese man's smirk widen.

Somewhere in the middle of his attacks, the Blood Talon had lodged his right leg between his own. It was here he was aware of what was going to happen. The street trash was about to trip him over, and he had no way of stopping it.

Hwoarang hooked his leg around behind Kazuya's right one, and tugged at it viciously, thereafter using his body weight to push his foe off of him. It succeeded, and before the 49-year-old could bring him down as well, he had escaped from the side, running his fingers shakily through his red hair, coughing, trying to clear his lungs.

"At a boy, Hwo!" Miharu cried out supportively.

For the first time in a long while, he didn't utilize his advantage, and attack Kazuya whilst he was on the ground. He was getting far too weak, and far too sore to even try such a thing. It took a lot of effort to simply throw the younger Mishima off balance, let alone attack him afterward. He could barely fucking _breathe._

Kazuya began to stand, letting out a low sweeping kick, which his opponent happily jumped over, clearing it completely. He was met with a nicely timed right kick to the face. The man took a few steps back, holding his face with one of his red gloved hands, and took it away, looking down, seeing blood smear his fingers.

His brown and red eyes darted up at the 21-year-old opposite him. His dark smirk morphed into a furious scowl.

"Like I said, Scarface… Can't repeat the past."

The youth had seized his arm, and performed the Falcon Dice Kick manoeuvre, making sure to slam his heel into his neck. The middle-aged man groaned in pain, eyes squeezed tight upon the impact of the heel, especially with those fucking spurs, and opened them once they left, wincing. Damn. That. Fucking. Spur. It had sliced the back of his neck wide open, and he could feel the blood dripping down his bare back.

The veteran fighter stood to his feet again, rolling out of the way of an incoming Dynamite Heel attack, and heard Baek yell out 'too soon'. The foot crashed into the ground, and echoed, ringing through his ears. Kazuya stood to his feet, speaking in the mean time, "Give it up, Hwoarang. If I wounded you so badly before, that you were confined to a hospital bed and couldn't walk properly for a fair while, I can wound you to such an extent again!"

He was on his feet again, and, without warning, immediately launched the Electric Wind God Fist punch, catching the Korean completely off guard. It smashed into the right side of his torso, and he could not help but smirk devilishly when that scream of complete suffering spilled from that filthy mouth.

"Hwoarang!"

The Blood Talon clutched his side with both hands in agony, oblivious to the call from Razer, stumbling backwards, falling onto his ass. He found enough strength to crawl away from his foe, and prop himself up against the wall, eyes wrenched impossibly shut, teeth gritting at an impossibly tight strength. There was nothing but pain, pain, and even more pain drowning his system. Not even the last match, with the onslaught on his left leg, was this painful. He was so sure, _so sure, _that Kazuya had broken something. And oh God, did it fucking _hurt_.

_Don't stop here! Don't stop here…_

Who the _fuck_ was that?

_You said to yourself you'd keep going, no matter what._

He remembered saying that to himself in the days coming before the match, and even before the match against Mokujin. Hwoarang sighed, peeling both of his eyes open slowly, in time to see a knee strike coming towards his face. He stood and hurriedly moved to the side, gritting his teeth even more so when the attack slammed into the left side of his torso. Agony on both sides…

_You can do it. You don't have far to go. He is weak. Have faith._

His hands shakily peeled themselves away from his wounded side, and clutched them into fists once more, as he drew strength from the words that were spoken inside his mind. He didn't know the person, but it was definitely a woman, and he'd make sure that he'd thank her later, whoever she was…

Little attacks. That's all he needed. Little attacks that wouldn't aggravate the wound, and make it hurt so much worse. Just a few attacks here and there, making sure to be so careful in the way he executed them, and in the way he defended himself, so the other side of his form was taking the blow, not the right side.

"Give up."

He ducked an incoming high kick, and released a short, sharp left kick at Kazuya's ankles, seeing him clearly stumble. He hurriedly stood upright and unleashed his Rejector combo, glad that the kick at the end was executed with his left leg as opposed to his right. Thinking quickly, he ripped into Machine Gun Kicks, all four left kicks connecting with his opponent, all the while feeling his right side stretch painfully to fight back.

"**Look for weaknesses,**" Seong-Hada called out quietly in Korean, "**He's not pulling out any more combos because of his neck and back. Try and hit him there. That should shut him up and knock him out cold.**"

The Blood Talon weaved to the left for a moment, well clear of another strong right punch, and indeed saw that the younger Mishima wasn't putting too much effort into his attacks any longer. He wasn't throwing his body into it, and judging by how he was holding his body, it was because of his neck and back, as Seong-Hada had said.

A slight smirk dawned his pained visage. He could feel the fear inside of him slipping away with every attack he launched, seeing in his foe's brown and red eyes pain seep through. It was like Baek had always said – if you look into the eyes of your opponent while you attack, you can see whether your attack caused damage. Ah, he loved doing that…

His vision started to blur, and his chest started to heave. He realised he was getting incredibly fatigued and weak, as though the battle, for him, was drawing to a close. It appeared that the same thing happening to Kazuya, especially when he could see his legs starting to buckle and quiver with the effort of holding himself up.

He had one chance. Just one. And he wouldn't fuck it up.

Hwoarang breathed in and out at a steady pace, and gritted his teeth, painfully performing a Misdemeanour roundhouse kick, aiming it directly for the back of Kazuya's neck. He tried his hardest not to scream, but couldn't help but groan in pain. Fortunately the 49-year-old's anguished cry covered it up as the foot connected with full force, knocking the disbelieving and cursing Japanese man out, wincing more so when his form hit the ground with a thud.

"I told you…" He breathed, falling onto his knees, hunching over, both hands now back at his side, "Can't repeat the past…"

"Number 22, Hwoarang, wins!"

A cheer from his friends didn't go unheard. He smiled to himself, just a bit, and slid to lie down on his left side, and curled up. His breathing was still short and ragged, his vision still going, still indicating to him that he would not elude unconsciousness. He was very careful not to disturb his right side, though he kept his hands pressed there.

He heard the walls of the arena go down, and footsteps approach. Each step echoed through his head and was agonising, contributing to an oncoming headache. Soon they slowed, and he could barely hear them, even as his best friend knelt down before him, unable to suppress a cheek-aching smile, one hand over both of his, the other waving over the medics.

The Korean barely managed roughly to shoot one back, before closing his eyes and finally slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Hwoarang__ v.s. Kazuya Mishima: _Arena, Tekken 4


	26. Switch

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twenty-Six: Switch **_

"_Hey…?"_

"_What?"_

"_Why did you keep going…? He damaged two of your ribs. If you had stopped then… Well… You'd be… alright."_

_Hwoarang sighed, still looking at his hands that were sitting on the top of his stomach. He turned his head to his right, to Razer, still tapping his fingers. His voice was gentle and soft, "I think you can figure it out."_

_She smiled again, realising it was for her, then kissed his cheek, standing to leave, "Thank you."_

_He managed to smile a little in return, though his body was in a terrible amount of pain, and could easily tell she didn't want to leave his side again. He wanted to reach out and keep her here himself, but if he did that, then… well… he just couldn't. The smile morphed from a happy one into a sad one, "I'm sorry I can't be there."_

"_Do not worry about it. Just get better."_

_Silence ensued, aside from the small footsteps that reached the door._

_The Blood Talon spoke up once more, "Good luck. Be careful out there, alright? It's the third round. You know that things get tough here."_

"_Jin's cousin will not win this match."_

_­_Do you know who Asuka reminds me of, in terms of energy?

Razer's eyebrows furrowed, this morning's memory cruelly interrupted. She crossed her arms across her stomach and sighed, swallowing, _No, I don't. So then tell me… _who _does Asuka remind you of, in terms of energy?_

Your Mother.

The Greek youth growled quietly and then sighed, realising it was true as the Kazama youth came towards the jungle arena. She remembered her Mother's energy, and it was so similar to Asuka's that it wasn't funny. They had the same attitude, though her Mother's diminished severely over time due to her Father, they both had a happy feeling deep, deep down… and they both reminded her of the light.

Do you know what else?

Athane rolled her eyes and sighed, _Mmm?_

Look up and behind her.

She refused to.

Come on. You know you want to, monster.

_Tell you what, the day you _successfully _take over my body, _then _I'll look up and behind her._

Bitch.

Asuka strolled up and stood directly in front of Razer, looking at her up and down. The Greek was about six inches taller than her, looked a little stronger than her, but still showed signs of being fairly thin. Probably from her time on the streets. Her hair was longer and a little lighter than the photograph her cousin had shown her. Then again, that was over two years ago. She was also thinner in the image… Probably because the time on the streets at that time was really bad, or something.

"What're you looking at?" the 20-year-old inquired warily, her voice having the inner Hwoarang edge through in defence.

Asuka's brown eyes narrowed angrily as she took two steps back and slid into stance, "The whore who broke my cousin's heart."

The Japanese youth noticed something break in her forest green eyes. A slight smirk appeared on her white face as the Greek's eyebrows furrowed, as that… thing that had broken in her eyes remained there, even as she too got into stance, fists loosely clenched, tapping her feet. This was going to be a very fun match indeed.

"21 vs 23. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"

The corrupt angel within forced Razer to launch the first attack in defence of being called a whore. Two, quick Eruption Kicks ensued, which caught Asuka off guard with the speed of them. The kicks had connected with her upper arm, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. The 17-year-old raised her arms, blocking the Machine Gun Kicks and Hot Feet kicks that thereafter came her way.

The Greek reared her left leg as high as she could, before bringing it back down, breaking the Kazama youth's guard. Her hand shot out and seized her wrist, using it for control for the Pick Pocket throw. With a small cry, the girl was kicked into the ground, her face scraping along the dirt of the jungle area.

Asuka smirked to herself, conducting a sweeping kick, which connected, but only had her opponent buckle a little. This was going to be an interesting match, because unlike the other opponents she had fought over time, whether they were in this tournament or not, she felt they were under-skilled compared to her. This woman wasn't. She was her equal, at least.

The Japanese youth dodged an incoming high kick, and parried, grabbing the leg by the ankle and carelessly tossing it down, almost sending her foe off balance. She countered with a swift shoulder to the head, sending Athane far back and into the ground, groaning in pain.

"Holy shit…" She muttered, feeling dizzy from the blow.

"Get up," Asuka drawled, still in stance, "You can't be that crap."

The 20-year-old complied mindlessly, her hand darting out to grab her opponent, but missing entirely. The Kazama girl laughed, and attacked her lower legs, knocking her over. She quickly manoeuvred into position, grabbed her right leg, and pulled. To her surprise though, her opponent didn't scream or whimper, though she did hear teeth press together.

Asuka stood up, but was attacked by Razer with a sharp kick to the shin. She hissed, knowing that that little attack was going to leave a rather large bruise. Another two low kicks came her way, however she sidestepped, clearing them all together. It was the third kick that she should've paid attention to – the one that was delivered directly to her midsection with the left leg.

The Japanese youth already knew her style was Tae Kwon Do, mixed with something else. What the something else _was, _she didn't know, but she _did _know that her strategies consisted of mainly kicking combinations. After all, that's what Tae Kwon Do was. With a slight smirk, she started to push away all kicks that came her way. The moves, whilst difficult to predict, soon became redundant. Kazama had the upper advantage now.

Soon enough, Athane's eyebrows were intensely pressed together, wondering why the hell nothing was working, yet every strike that failed to hit, she was receiving two back. She would switch to one stance, and her Back Lash kick would be parried, throwing her off balance, followed by two spinning kicks, sending her to the ground.

She would get back up and attempt to make Asuka buckle by lashing out with her left leg. Sometimes it hit, and other times it was simply blocked, but the two Tsunami Kicks that followed in her strategy were immediately parried. One such incident resulted in her head slamming into the pavement with force, blood trickling down.

_What the hell is going on?_

Ah, she's clever…

The attempt to make her foe airborne was easily predicted. She had side-stepped and pinned her arm painfully behind her back, and tripped her over with one of her feet. The Greek groaned in pain and rolled over, feeling a leg catch her side.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?! She's predicting every move!_

Perhaps if you made an attempt to switch up your strategy, she would not stop your attacks every time.

With a slight nod, acknowledging the entity's remarks, she tried a different kicking combination – one she had rarely used in this match. Fortunately, most of the kicks connected, though there were some attacks that were still very easily blocked. The 20-year-old growled in agitation, head breaking to the left to concentrate on speech, _She still stopped it!_

If you made that move again and successfully executed it completely, what combination would you use thereafter? Oh, and step to the right.

She did so, feeling a punch brush by her. Razer stayed on the defensive as the attacks continued, _I… don't know…_

Exactly. Stop sticking to one style. You have another, so use it.

Asuka's left arm darted forward, hoping for the open palm to attack her. She darted off to the side again, before hurriedly placing a tight grip on her forearm with one hand, and just above her elbow with the other. She made a few more adjustments before managing to throw her opponent over her shoulder, the painful thud ringing clear through her ears.

Good, good.

The 17-year-old stood quickly, expecting a barrage of kicks to come her way, only to find tightly clenched fists instead. Within that barrage, though she only barely managed to block a few punches, she identified a Laser Cannon attack, something she must've picked up from Jin. The next move she tried was Savage Sword, but the Japanese girl stopped it from occurring, forcing her into a different variety of punches.

A breather was soon needed, and the Greek woman soon found herself on the defensive against Asuka once again. It was like passing a torch between one another, or the flip of a switch – one would attack mercilessly, whilst the other guarded against it, and then they would change over. It was repetitive, like a cycle, and unlike the previous exchanges, the Japanese girl was struggling to connect a majority of the attacks.

Switch.

She was attacking again, watching Asuka's slowing attempts to defend herself. She had thrown in a few more kicks in this strategy, as opposed to the last one, slowly pushing the youth away from her, keeping her at a safe distance. She'd be damned if she got back into the personal space. Those throws really hurt.

Switch.

A parry had resulted in the swap, and fists galore came her way. Razer leant back, avoiding another elbow, and then forward, avoiding a shoulder. Three low Leg Cutter Kicks caught her shins, but she jumped over the final one, and once again, the Greek was put back on the offensive.

Switch.

This was a test of endurance and patience, one the Kazama youth seemed to be losing. The creature within noticed the 17-year-old's eyebrows furrow closer together, her teeth grit harder, her offensive and defensive attacks become sloppier, and her footing slip all the more. She could hear the ragged breath, and the occasional Japanese curse tumble from her mouth. A punch went astray, missing completely, throwing Asuka off balance.

Switch.

Razer reared her right leg up for a quick Nose Bleeder kick, wincing as it smashed across her face. The youth fell to the floor with a growl. Athane was about to attack lowly again with a sweeping left kick but stopped when she was contacted.

'_Please… go easy…'_

'_I have to win.'_

'_You have already won…' _Jin murmured.

She stopped for a moment and actually _looked _at the Japanese youth, seeing how her arms were shaking as she tried to lift herself up and off the muddy ground of the jungle floor. Her face was smeared with blood and mud, her hair was disarrayed, and her clothes were crumpled. There was some swelling on her forearms from all those blows, and her ankle didn't look too good.

"Asuka, maybe you should just give up…"

"No! I'm _not _quitting!"

"But look at yourself… You can't even stand up anymore."

It was true. She had gotten to her feet, only to fall back down. With agitated sigh, she tried again, only this time to land on her sore hip as opposed to face down in the mud. The rain that lightly began to fall was making everything slipperier. She tried one last time only to fail, and heard the referee declare Storm Wind as the victor.

The 17-year-old bowed her head down, one hand holding her sitting form up, the other resting in her lap, a hand weakly clenched into a fist. She stared at it, seeing the blood drip from her nails and down her fingers. She saw how it shook slightly, and felt the strength of the pain inflicted on her. She sighed quietly, "**I'm sorry, Dad…**"

A hand clad in a black glove appeared in her field of vision. Asuka looked at it for a long moment, following it up the person's bare arm, coming to a shoulder and a sliding strap of a black tank top. She turned her head to the right, still following the right shoulder, and saw Razer smiling a little at her. She did not look too well either from their little scuffle, and spoke lowly, "Come on. Let's go get fixed up."

The Kazama youth grabbed it and pulled herself up steadily, brushing some dust off of her legs. The 20-year-old had slung her arm across her shoulders, adding support, helping Asuka, knowing she couldn't stand well enough. They began to leave, and as they did, the Japanese girl tossed her head over her shoulder to see Jin turning away and leaving.

She didn't miss the small smile.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Razer Athane__ v.s. Asuka Kazama: _Jungle, Tekken 4


	27. Mental Alertness

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** I somehow whipped up two chapters (no not here, further along in the story). As a result, you get this chapter early, LOL! Oh! And to the readers of _No Tomorrow, _expect an update sometime soon :D

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mental Alertnessf**_

"So why are you fighting?"

Asuka looked to Razer beside her, eyebrows furrowing, "Why should I tell you?"

"It is a curious question. You do not need to answer if you do not want to. I apologize if I pulled the wrong string."

"Aaaand just when I thought I escaped my cousin's verbose ways…"

The woman flinched a little and looked down at her shoes, recalling something Hwoarang said last tournament.

It didn't go unnoticed. The Japanese girl continued holding her aching arm close to her form, whilst she limped towards the hospital with the assistance of her opponent. Her gaze returned to the front, where she saw the hospital forming not too far ahead, "My Dad… kinda got in a nasty scuffle with someone. Wulong and Burton think that the assailant ended up here."

A small smile graced the Greek's tanned features, "Detective… Anavel Burton?"

"Yeah. Why, do you know him or something? Is he a secret pen pal?" She smirked.

"Seong-Hada hired him to… help clear up and assist me with an incident that occurred between the last two tournaments."

"Oh, that suicide thing?"

"Yes…" She answered lowly and quickly. It was a touchy subject she still did not wish to discuss if possible.

Silence continued as they hobbled onward. The hospital was drawing closer now, and all the while within Storm Wind's head, the corrupt angel within was talking about Asuka's energy, Yes… very pure. She is unusually pure. As pure as your Mother was. Is that why you feel somewhat safe around her? Is that why you did not want to fight her? Or was it to make sure that _Jin _didn't have a real reason to be angry with you?

The Japanese youth suddenly stopped walking, "I sense something evil."

_Me… _"Since when could you 'sense'?"

"Well… not sense or whatever, but… I can kinda feel something dark around here."

"It does kinda feel like we are being watched."

She kept walking again, fleetingly looking at the Greek, "Jin opened my eyes to it when we started speaking. He says it's related to us… The Kazama-Mishima lot. He can't help but shake that feeling. I keep telling him to ignore it, but he can't. It keeps him up at night sometimes. It's like… It's like there's a chaos just waiting to break loose and spin all around us, like a hurricane. And _you _already broke him, so he's struggling to stop things from falling apart any further, and getting ready to try and defend everyone."

The inner Hwoarang quietly appeared as they walked through the double doors, following the nurses who were directing them down the long and winding corridors, "Why does he _always _insist on playing the hero? Geez… We'll be fine…"

The Japanese youth suddenly exploded, "Cheese it, Raze! This is _worse _than _**Ogre!**_ Or have you shut yourself off completely from the energy in the world and just stumble around blindly in the dark, like the stupid whore you are?!"

"You shut the fuck up and take that back, Sunshine."

Both females looked over their shoulder to see Hwoarang. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his hands were clenched in his pockets. His red hair was splayed around, as though he just woke up, and was not held back by his goggles (which were around his neck), framing his face. His sienna eyes were narrowed, dark and hard. The 17-year-old narrowed her eyes, "Well, if it isn't the pervert. Or should I say, pimp?"

The firm line that was his mouth only got firmer, even as he spoke, tossing his head back a little, hair falling away, "You wanna try that with me one day, Sunshine? I think you'd do well in the streets. You'd make me a lot of money."

Temporarily forgetting that she was at Razer's mercy, she went to launch a punch at him. The smirk that appeared on the Blood Talon's face made her realise that she was being held back. She looked over her shoulder and growled at the Greek, "Release me!"

"Only if you leave him alone…" She replied weakly. The comments that were thrown at her had hurt her, and the small growl that had soon arrived from the 21-year-old nearby indicated to her that he was well aware of that fact.

"**Asuka Kazama?**"

All three Iron Fist participants looked to the intruding voice. It was the nurse. She smiled sweetly and gestured to behind her with an open palm, her fingers pressed together. Her clipboard remained firm in her other arm, watching her follow, "**This way please, Miss Kazama. We are ready for your check up now.**"

Razer let go of the Japanese youth quickly and watched as she hobbled away. Hwoarang approached her, standing next to her now with that hard, angry look still plastered on his face, "Fuck, she PMSes worse than _you_ do…"

The 17-year-old growled angrily and stopped walking, now hopping on her right leg. She tore off her right shoe, threw it at the Korean as hard as she could, and then watched in fury as he somehow managed to catch it before it hit him in the head, "Grr…"

He lazily waved it around, antagonizing her further, "Because you're being such a bitch, you're not getting this back."

"_**ASSHOLE!!**_"

"**Come along, Miss Kazama,**" The nurse ushered her away and further down the hall towards the room.

Once she was completely out of their sight, Hwoarang spoke quietly, dropping the shoe on the floor carelessly, kicking it under a nearby chair, "Fuck what she says. She doesn't know you."

Athane shrugged and scratched the back of her head, looking at her shoes, "Mmmm…"

"You never let comments like that hit you before… Why are you letting it get to you now?"

"What are you doing out of the hospital bed?" She inquired flatly, still looking at her shoes.

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"You should be resting."

"Answer me," He remarked firmly.

She didn't say anything, and merely looked up at him, still seeing the anger on his face. It diminished a little when he studied her expression for a few moments, and was replaced with something she still couldn't identify.

It was always in his eyes, ever since they were 'officially' good friends; _way_ after she ran away, but _way_ before he kissed her for the first time. The corrupt angel within often taunted her, wanting to tell her, but she kept refusing to listen. She wanted to find out for herself. She tried many times to find out, but to no avail. When he confessed his love two months ago, Razer thought she may have found out what it was. She read deeper into that look, that feeling, from then on, still trying to see what it may have possibly been.

She still didn't know.

Pr-

_I am _not _listening._

Hwoarang was the first to break their little stare. He looked down to his feet, "I have to go fight. I dunno who yet, but they're getting their ass kicked irregardless. That's why I'm outta bed."

"But you will get further hurt…" She whispered tentatively.

"Probably. But I'm still gonna fight."

"Your safety is more important than paying for my future house and its bills."

"Your life is more important than mine."

Athane looked away immediately, even as he looked back up. She rubbed her right wrist awkwardly, her heart fluttering with emotions, and her mind and the entity within screaming at her that this was wrong, that he _belonged _to Miharu, that she could only ever love him as a brother, that she would only infect him with despair and negative poison.

She saw his gloved right hand come into her line of vision, trying to catch her chin, "Look at me."

Instead she looked the other way, still trying to avoid the hand that followed.

"_Look at me._"

His touch was warm as he guided her head to look straight at her. Storm Wind could still see that 'look' in his eyes. A majority of the anger had completely disappeared, and that other feeling was clouding it completely. She could see love accompany it.

"If it meant that I had to leave your side so you could live properly again, and have the life that was taken away from you given back, I would go. If it meant I had to never see you again so you could be the person you want to be, I'd do it. If I gotta break a few ribs, get a few bumps and get a concussion to get your future secured, whether it's without or with me, then let's go!"

Pr-

The Greek smiled a little at the lighter note he ended with. She saw him smile back a little as she pried his hand away and stood on her toes, hugging him gently, careful to not put any pressure on the ribcage. A shaky sigh slipped from her mouth, "Please be careful. I do not think I could bear the thought of you breaking your arm just trying to help me out…"

The smile on his face grew as he cradled her in his own arms too, nuzzling her affectionately as though he were a cat, "I'll be fine."

His hair tickled her face, but she didn't mind. She pulled away after the brief exchange, her gaze now on his goggles. She grabbed them and pulled them up gently, pushing his hair away from his face, leaving them at the top of his head where he liked them. She looked back to his eyes again, "Go get 'em."

The 21-year-old smiled and moved to kiss her on the lips, as he done many times before, as was etched into his system, but stopped himself yet again with a silent sigh and an inner 'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING'. God, why did he have to start that stupid habit?

"It is strange, isn't it?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, "Hm?"

"Not being able to… interact… like we used to."

He nodded sadly and turned away to leave, "Yeah."

She smiled a little, glad she wasn't the only one feeling this way. She anxiously span his promiser ring around her finger, waiting for her turn to be checked up. Her hip was killing her from all those damn take downs, and the headache she currently had from the shoulder to the head couldn't be good.

But there was another thought in her mind. Was Asuka right? Was she walking around with her mind closed _that _much that she too could not sense the apparently overwhelming darkness? When she used to train with her Mother, she was always told to keep her mind completely open. She could feel so much… Maybe after everything she felt on the night that her Mother was killed, she had subconsciously decided to shut off her mind completely, because it was too overwhelming in that instance. That would explain this.

Perhaps then you should open up and have a look around you. It will do you no harm. You need to be mentally aware of the evil you are facing at this tournament. The evil that both Kazuya and Wang have informed you of.

"**Miss Athane?**"

"**She doesn't speak Japanese.**"

Razer's head snapped up from the ground to straight ahead where the nurse and Asuka stood. The nurse pointed to the room with a small smile, silently asking her to come along. The Kazama youth walked by the Greek, done with her treatments, and mumbled something about her shoe. It was now her turn to get checked out.

The whole time she was there, she couldn't help but have her mental alertness diminish and wander.

* * *

Hwoarang looked around the place he was going to fight. It was the one Razer had first fought in, against Raven – the secret garden. He slowly paced on his side, looking at the ground, seeing the flowers stare back up at him in an array of red, orange and other colours. He saw a pair of frogs hop by happily, without a care in the world.

His opponent still had not shown up yet. The announcer was getting restless, fiddling with the cuff of his long-sleeved white shirt, tapping his foot, and clearing his throat. The Blood Talon was no different, simply pacing back and forth, flicking his head back to have the few stray hairs get out of his vision, thinking about how he was going to fight without aggravating his wound.

The 21-year-old looked up again, his eyes sweeping the area. There was no one there for him but Seong-Hada (whom he had called), which was good. He supposed that the others were not aware of his match being on so soon after the other. But whatever, it didn't matter. Less chance to embarrass himself.

His Korean counterpart stood out like a sore thumb, being all quiet and introverted, fiddling with his hands, looking worryingly at his leader. Well, he was always like the Mother of the gang… He was a sweet kid, even though he practically hated him at the start. But now look at them. They were like brothers now. They may as well have been. SH, the kind, sweet, hyper one. Hwoarang himself, the brash, arrogant, honest one.

It wasn't a surprise that they'd conflict at first any how. It was Razer who saw him in the streets first, sheltering himself with a cardboard box in the middle of a thunderstorm, staring at the dirty ground as though it were the answer to all his problems. It was her who went over and took the then 14-year-old's hand, and brought him over to her best friend, asking if he could stay with them for a while. That little while turned into five years.

That little act had sparked a really close friendship between them. When SH started to finally open up, it was to her, not to him. He came in later. It was her first. She was the one who found out what happened to him, she was the one who helped him get back on his feet, she was the one who told him he'd be alright with them.

And then he started to notice the little things. Things that happened to him, too. The way that a joke would only be funny if Razer laughed at it. The way that the food he'd cook would only be good if Razer liked it. The way that the clothes would only look good on him of Razer liked it. The way that it would only be a good string of attacks if Razer thought it was well executed.

And then Hwoarang hated him.

Seong-Hada _liked _her.

It wasn't fair.

He tried very hard to block it out of his mind, every time he saw the little signs. But that stupid spark in his amber eyes always infuriated him… To the point when one day he punched him, hard, across the jaw, and left for two days to scream and cry and hate at the ruins of Baek's dojang (a very big step, considering it hadn't been too long since the damn thing burnt down). He needed to sort himself out, and fast. And he did eventually, apologizing. Though that attack seemed to have him back off, for good.

The change was small, but it was there. It was like a shift of love, to a sister. It was obvious to him that Hwoarang had been in love with her, at least, since that attack, and didn't want anyone to take her away from him. SH had apologized too, seeing said love reflect in the Greek's eyes when he returned from his brooding session at the remains of the dojang, where he had grown up.

Speaking of Baek, where was he anyway? He wasn't standing along side Seong-Hada like he normally was.

"Dammit…" He patted himself down, searching for a cigarette and his lighter, "If the fucking guy was gonna be late, he could've at least put up a warning… Wait, what the fuck am I talking about? I don't even know who I'm fighting…"

"**Oh my God… Hwoarang? Look up. Stop feeling yourself for cigs…**"

He growled, ceasing his search for his beloved nicotine, and once he did, his eyes widened, "**No…**"

* * *

The nurse waved good bye to Athane as she walked out. She was not too badly damaged, though there would be considerable bruising on the left side of her hip, where the 'Devil' Gene mark was branded. Her headache continued to thud and get worse with every heavy step she took.

It took quite an effort between the two ladies to get communication underway, what with the language barrier. They had both resorted to facial and hand gestures to get across what they wanted to say. The end of their little session had left them both tired.

The nurse also struggled to keep Razer focused. Asuka's words were now plaguing her, and for the entire time she was receiving her check up, she continuously tried to pick up on emotions, feelings and auras in the area. For Christ's sake, she was partly a 'corrupt angel', so it only made sense that she should be able to do something along those lines.

For a first try, she tried picking up on how the nurse was feeling. It was successful, as she appeared to be a little sad. The next exercise resulted in feeling around the hospital for any darkness. She found nobody but Kazuya, who was still recovering form his fight with Hwoarang. She opted go and see him, if only for a moment, but later asked herself 'what for?', realising it was stupid any how.

She was now following Hwoarang's scent, looking for him so she could go watch him fight. She wondered if he would be alright, and who he was fighting. She wondered if he had already dished out the 'is that all you've got?' that regularly came in his battles. She wondered if the others knew about his fight.

Her current mental exercise was trying to pick up on how he was feeling. She knew him the best out of everybody, could identify him the best out of everybody, and could often tell by the look on his face, but not by sensing. This way would probably be harder than the alternative, though, for she had already mastered inspecting his face.

He was far off. A flame amongst darkness, a flame amongst other people she didn't know or necessarily care about. He was flickering, but ever present. Always there, like he always was. Two words suddenly entered her mind, and they confused her for a moment. Why would Hwoarang be _concerned _about his opponent? Why would he be _shocked _about who he was fighting?

Her phone vibrated against her thigh, breaking her concentration. Whipping it out quickly, the 20-year-old registered a message from Seong-Hada. She got past the massive two rows of exclamation marks and read the core of the message:

'_HWO IS UP AGAINST BAEK!!'_

And in that instant, everything was explained, and she ran to find them.


	28. Hesitance

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Hesitance **_

They are at the secret garden where you fought Raven. Keep going.

They had started fighting. She could sense it.

Damn… Had she been out of touch for that long? Asuka was right.

Razer sighed, still running, ignoring the throbbing pain. This was a match she had to see. He needed her.

* * *

He turned backwards and slammed his heel into his student's sternum, hard.

Baek felt awful that he had to fight Hwoarang. How could he be matched up against his already injured student, who had only fought a day or two ago against a phenomenal foe? It was unfair. Everyone needed at least a week's rest, right? It was a tournament for God's sake – the third round… People can be killed in this thing.

The youth groaned in pain once said foot evacuated. The Blood Talon came at his master with a few swift kicks, trying to mix up the level and range of his attacks, despite the pain in his ribs. He aimed for the legs, the torso, the head, from a variety of differences, desperately trying to remain unpredictable.

This man knew him practically inside out. He was the only one whose knowledge of him rivalled Razer's.

He wished she was here. It always made it easier for him to be able to turn his head and _see _who he was fighting for. Her check up should've been over by now, right? Just a couple of injuries from her scuffle against Asuka, which she won… Right? Nothing serious? She didn't need to lie down in a bed or anything?

"**Focus, Talon!**"

A sharp kick greeted him in the head. Hwoarang growled angrily, his hand climbing to where he was struck, rubbing it. He withdrew his hand and looked at it, seeing blood on the tips of his fingers, and on his glove. He looked up, leaning back just in time to avoid a kick across the face.

Seeing that as an opportunity, he grabbed Doo San's leg, and hooked his own leg behind the grounded one, pulling it back towards him, sweeping his mentor off balance. The elder's back smashed into the flowery ground, and before the younger Korean could attack him whilst he was on the ground, his opponent rolled out of the way, knowing that he tended to abuse that power (or 'spam' as Razer used to say).

Baek, now on his back, hurriedly lashed out a foot stomp, watching as it struck his opponent's shins, watching as he buckled forward a little, legs sliding apart after the attack. He stood up, kicking his student twice with his left leg, the second kick crashing down onto his back. His heel slid down that muscled back, and he couldn't help but wince in pain as well.

This was going to be a long fight on this mid-Monday day.

* * *

"You can't do this! I am busy!"

Kill him.

On her way, she had been intercepted by one of Raven's friends, Eagle, and was currently being dragged back towards the 'ship'. He had a deathly grip on her left upper arm, and though she had already tried to wrench it off, she failed. She wanted to physically attack him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

He, Crane and Raven were trying to _help _her, after all. Not _kill _her. They were trying to develop a _cure _for the corrupt angel within, not murder her and extract the gene to keep it for themselves, and use it for whatever sick purpose they wanted. But nonetheless, she continued to struggle angrily, a feral growl coming up from the back of her throat.

"Miss Athane, I have a sedative. If you do not relax, I will _make _you relax."

"It's not me!"

"Then control her."

"Why did Raven not warn me that I had to go get another 'check up'…?"

"Raven's a busy man. He's pursuing Heihachi Mishima as we speak. He believes he is the 'darkness' he has told you about."

_He's wrong… _She thought quietly, still trying to fidget. Razer's green eyes remained open, darting around frantically. She herself was fine, but it was the entity that was panicking to this extent, essentially freaking out, trying to escape the grasp. Sure, the 20-year-old was pissed, and she had other stuff to do, but…

"Hush up. We're almost there," Eagle remarked, hurrying along, trying to avoid the strange glances coming their way.

The flame was still flickering in her mind. It was angry, it was confused, it was wary, and it was in pain. She assumed he was angry that she was not there at the moment. She assumed that he was confused because she wasn't there. It was obvious he was wary of his opponent, Baek, and in pain because of the attacks… But she wondered if her not being there right now was adding to that pain.

Her phone vibrated again. The Greek pulled it out with her free arm – another text from Seong-Hada:

'_where r u? he needs u there! he keeps hesitating…'_

She managed to reply:

'_i… can't b there… something unexpected has come up… plz tell him i'm sorry… & tell him 2 stop hesitating! tell him 2 picture that its kazama or sumthin… hope it helps. idk when i'll b back. don't txt again, this is really important.'_

'_uh… kk… b careful.'_

* * *

Seong-Hada looked up from his phone and slid it back in his pocket, sighing. What was so important that she had to run off, let alone not tell her best friend that she couldn't be there cheering him on like normal times? He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his hands, which were clasped together and perched on the railing, sighing.

_Maybe it has to do with that creature thing… _He thought to himself.

"**Don't doze off on me, Hwoarang!**"

"**I'm trying…**" He whispered almost inaudibly, ducking forward, avoiding another kick over his head.

_Yeah… It must be. Otherwise she'd be here. And even before all this, at the hideout, she was always with him. There were times where she left, and he just looked so worried… He stayed up all night many times, until she got back. I guess this explains why she left. Must've needed to release the thing for a bit before it tore her up inside._

"**Stop it!**"

Baek's shrill cry of anger came with a disgruntled growl from his student. The youngest Korean's head snapped back towards the action, and away from his shaking, pale hands. He fiddled with the end of his long-sleeved, dark blue shirt, glad that he had bought it in England, glad that Steve's Aunt was so willing to pay for it.

"**Why are you hesitating?**" Doo San inquired angrily, eyebrows furrowing quickly.

…_Why _is _he hesitating? He's never hesitated before, _the 19-year-old pondered.

Hwoarang unleashed a Cheap Snap Shot Kick, aimed directly as his Master's stomach. He grimaced as his opponent doubled over, both arms wrapped around his torso, the air sucked out of him from the sheer force of the attack. He immediately dropped his stance and took a step towards him, "**Baek, I'm sorry… You alright?**"

A sharp punch greeted him in the side of the head, along with two low kicks, and one high one. When the 21-year-old slammed back into the ground, the concrete pathway, the elder Korean crossed his arms and remained where he was, "**Do you not recall what I have said to you in the past?**"

He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at the flowers beside him. They swayed gently due to his heavy breath, even as he spoke, answering his Master's question on why he was hesitating to attack, "**I can't do this to you, Baek. I don't want this fight. You're… you're practically my fucking Father.**"

"**Watch your tongue.**"

The Blood Talon smiled a little at that remark and managed to stand once more. Quickly brushing dust off of his clothes, he just stood there, sadly looking at the person opposite him. He didn't want this fight at all. He would've much preferred to fight against Razer, though it'd slim the chances of helping her out. But this… this wasn't fair. He was 48-years-old. Baek wasn't a young man anymore.

"**Sometimes you'll have to fight someone you care about, Hwoarang, and they may not show sympathy for you.**"

He paused for a bit, looking down at his feet, before looking back up and nodding, slipping into stance, watching his mentor do likewise. It was going to be hard, but he had to do it, he realised, as the rocket pendant swung back and forth underneath his shirt, "**Let's try this again, shall we?**"

"**Yes, let's start this again,**" He replied, delivering a sharp kick to his student's shoulder.

Seong-Hada smiled, watching as his leader's right shoulder was sent flying back, as he was now standing side on. He should've known that _that's _what was bothering him. But even now, as he unleashed the punch and two kicks that were dubbed Chainsaw Kicks, he still saw the split-second hesitance before initiating the attack.

He mustered up his voice and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting out in Korean, "**Hey Hwo! Pretend its Jin!**"

Doo San quirked an eyebrow, briefly looking at his younger student, before looking back to his opponent. He did not question anything, though, when his older student's gaze darkened immediately, as a Misdemeanour roundhouse kick suddenly said hello to the back of his head. He went down with an angered cry, but he was not out.

* * *

Stay the _fuck _away from me.

"For God's sake Miss Athane, control that thing!" Crane yelled angrily at the thing backed up in the corner. She and Eagle were without Raven this time, without their prime fighter, and they were currently cornering a 'Devil' Razer, who had transformed upon entering the vicinity.

"I'm trying…"

And you continue to _fail._

"Shut up!"

Eagle had his finger to his ear, where he was trying to contact Raven. So far, nothing came up. Perhaps he was currently engaged in combat against Heihachi Mishima. He doubted it, though, but it was still a possibility nonetheless. Neither he nor Crane were fighters… Raven was the specialist in that regard.

"Eagle! Do something!" Crane growled angrily.

_Where's that fucking sedative… _He thought to himself, shoving one of his hands mercilessly through his pockets, looking for the damn valium pills. It would calm the anxiety, and perhaps relax the corrupt angel within just enough to have the true Razer overpower it with ease. Sure, she'd be really sleepy thereafter, but that would be better than tearing apart two innocent humans.

He found the two pills and pulled them out of his pocket. Eagle looked up in victory, but then frowned. How the fuck was he going to get in her mouth and down her throat, whilst remaining in one piece? He sighed angrily. A slingshot wouldn't work in this situation, as amusing as it would be.

The being in the corner suddenly became animalistic, lashing out at Crane. A shriek ripped through the area. Both operatives looked at the woman's arm, seeing blood start to drip from the new, large tear in her white lab coat, which was slowly becoming stained with blood; like faded red ink on pure white paper. Her red eyes narrowed into slits, almost cutting through the darkness as they pierced him, Shove those down my throat, and I will see to it that you die.

Claws gleamed in the light that suddenly shone in the room. 'Devil' Razer looked away, her dark sanctuary gone, and growled in frustration, sinking down a little. She brought up a hand to shield her eyes, and even then that did very little. She tried to peer past the light, past the two forms, to see who had entered the room and flicked on that damn light.

With a deep breath, she identified the individual to be Raven. How lovely.

"Would it have killed you to answer?!" Eagle shouted. His companion shrugged and quickly assessed the situation.

Another growl ruptured deep in the back of her throat as the true Razer's voice came out, as she tried to take control again, as she managed to sink herself lower to the floor so she was on her knees, "Hold me down! Quick!"

Stay the _fuck _away from me! All of you! The voice was quivering like mad.

"Hurry up! I cannot hold her off for much longer!"

Raven saw the opportunity and ran over immediately, using his strength to hold down the youth. Crane joined him, using what was left of her strength to do so, a knee across both of the huge, black wings. The Greek also attempted to restrain herself, to restrain the corrupt angel, and looked to Eagle expectantly.

The operative stepped forward and knelt down in front of the creature, who was currently more human than beast. Whilst the other two held her down, he popped both pills into her mouth, "Swallow them. Try not to chew them up."

In Athane's head, the creature was screaming at her, _DON'T! _

A hurried gulp was the thing's answer.

* * *

"Number 22, Hwoarang, wins!"

"**...Why did you do that, Baek?**" The Blood Talon whispered, clutching his ribs yet again. It wasn't that his Master had struck them, it was just he had moved around so much that the pain had sharply intensified once more.

Doo San smiled and shrugged, breathing in and out heavily. He had surrendered the match to his student, stating that neither needed to be tested further, and that he was quite happy for the 21-year-old to continue on in the tournament. That was one of the two reasons he joined, actually. Just to test his skills out. It had been twenty years since the last tournament he was involved in, after all. It wouldn't have hurt.

He felt so weak, sitting there amongst the flowers, holding his ribs. He felt so tired, so sore, and so frustrated. Tired because of the match, sore because of the previous wounds and the new ones inflicted in this match (such as the nasty bump forming on his shin), and frustrated because of other issues running through his head at the moment… such as why the fuck his best friend didn't come.

"**You actually have a cause in this tournament, Hwoarang. I don't. I may as well have given the match to you. You've proven yourself a worthy adversary, and your skills have improved vastly since the last time we sparred under proper conditions, as opposed to running into each other at the gym in the army, thinking it was someone else. Good job, kid.**"

He scratched the back of his head and smiled. Praise from his mentor.

"**Now get off your ass and go back to the hospital.**"

Hwoarang stood wearily, almost tipping over from exhaustion and pain. He raised his head and looked at his mentor square in the eye, almost as though he were silently saying 'okay, but after I find out why the fuck Razer wasn't here'. Hesitance. Defiance. The 48-year-old sighed and ran his fingers through his grey hair.

"**I'll go look.**"

The two older Koreans looked to the youngest one, who had just spoken. Seong-Hada was leaning off the rails now, and turning to his right, leaving the area in a hesitant, yet speeding step. He too was curious as to why she couldn't come. It was unlike her, and there was an element of uncertainty in her text messages.

* * *

"We developed something experimental using the blood you gave us," Crane informed stoically, going elsewhere to fix up the wound that the corrupt angel's claw marks had left. It was safe to say that the creature was immobilised.

The Greek, who was lying on her side, under close surveillance of Raven, spoke up in a slur, "Which is…?"

"Well," She began, now tying a bandage around the bleeding wound, "We managed to get a look at the genetic strain of the angel within the blood. It is not savagely attacking your genetics, but rather chipping away at trying to control you wholly. It is like a tumour, growing silently. At some instances it appears, such as now, and at others it is practically invisible. But you have a strong will, Miss Athane, and that has stopped her from seizing you completely, not to mention the will of someone else, though we are not sure on that. Probably the origin of the angel."

_My… Mother…?_

Eagle cut in, rummaging for something of importance on the table, "In the sample we were able to remove the strain and take a closer look. It is diseased, somewhat. Well not diseased… actually… it's very hard to explain. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be good. Somehow, it became corrupt once you were born, or something along those lines.

"We tried many things on the strain, wondering what they would do. Nothing worked, except, to our surprise, holy water. Funny how the religious people always said that holy water banished demons and other silly stuff like that. But hey, whatever. It took a highly concentrated amount, though."

"So what you're saying is, all I had to go was go and take a swim in fucking _holy water?_"

The frustration was noticed. Eagle shook his head, "No. That wouldn't have attacked the gene directly. You needed to have it directly on the gene, alone. But continuing on, the gene changed. Where as it was a… blackish colour before, so to say, the portion we acquired is now white. It was no longer aggressive, and it did not change back.

"Out of sheer curiosity, we put it back with the blood sample. Guess what happened?"

"Nothing…?" She whispered, hopeful.

He smiled wholly and nodded, strolling over with a needle in hand. He looked down on her as Crane came to his side, her arm now bandaged and the wound cleaned, "Yes. It did not attack, it did not do anything. It was _peaceful_ with yourgenes. So we were wondering, perhaps you would like us to inject this pure strain and see if it can set to work in fixing the rest of your system. Or at least, to see what happens."

"And you couldn't just shove the fucking needle in my arm while it was active?"

Crane shook her head, squatting down to her level, helping her sit up, avoiding the two horns that were still protruding out of the youth's head, "No. The corrupt angel is now unconscious, peaceful somewhat. You are still in her form because she does not have enough strength to revert. You'll have to do that by yourself. Any how, this way it will not be trying to fight off the pure strand, and the pure strand will have a better chance of fixing it up. Now, we are not aware of the consequences, so if there are any, you will just have to deal with it. Do you want this?"

Razer paused, hesitating for a good long moment. What would possible consequences be? Would it be as though the body is fighting a foreign invader, like a virus? Would the corrupt angel fight against the new strain? Would she herself be able to support the new strain and defend it? What was going to happen? How would 'she' change? How would the mortal, she _herself, _change with the new strain?

Quivering blood red eyes met blue ones as she nodded the slightest bit, still full of hesitance.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Hwoarang__ v.s. Baek Doo San: _Secret Garden, Tekken 5


	29. Energy

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Yup TeaC0sy, time for that song. _'Flyyyy aaaawaaaaayyyyy…'_

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Energy**_

Seong-Hada called his Greek friend for the third time. The phone continued to ring, and it was increasingly frustrating. Ring ring. Ring ring. Geez… The first two times, he had ended up at her voicemail. He hoped this time that she'd hear the damn thing, and pick up. That way, he could find her much easier.

But when a gruff man answered with a cold 'speaking' on the other end of the phone, he froze. He could hear his heart thudding in his ears. He only snapped into vocal action once the man inquired his name once more, "S-Seong-Hada, I'm one of Razer's friends… Who're you?"

"Raven."

"…Oh, her first opponent? Hiy - …_Waaaait,_ what're you doing answering her phone? What've you done with Raze?"

"Go to Jin Kazama's room. You will find her there under his protection. Take your Hwoarang friend with you. He will understand what she is doing there, what has occurred and will probably be able to assist the situation like Mr Kazama. Don't worry, she is alive, and her life is not in any danger. She is just undergoing a little… experiment."

The dial tone hummed in his ear. His amber eyes widened a little. Experiment? What happened?

He did a u-turn and ran back towards the secret garden. Hopefully the Blood Talon hadn't hobbled too far away.

* * *

Dark brown eyes roamed her face, searching for a sign of anger, frustration, sadness or panic.

About half an hour ago, there was a knocking at Jin's door. Reluctantly, he left the company of Xiaoyu and Asuka, who were in his kitchen, and opened it, to see Raven standing on the other side. Slung over his shoulder was his ex-girlfriend, who was completely unconscious and limp. He could see a little bit of blood on her fingers, and knew she had transformed.

Well look at that. She got herself into trouble. Stupid slut… About time she got what she deserved.

"What do you want?" Kazama had inquired lowly, still eyeing the 20-year-old who was over his shoulder, ignoring the devil within.

Raven walked in without asking to enter, and went towards his unmade bed. Quietly, he placed the youth upon it, and drew the covers over her body, and then moved into the corner of the room, well out of sight from the other two women in the room. His voice was low as he spoke to the most recent Iron Fist champion, "My Organization is aware of your former relationship with this woman. All I ask is that you look after her until she wakes up."

"What happened…?" He inquired after a pause, moving to her side.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a little experiment."

An alarm went off in his head upon hearing 'experiment', "What did you do to her?"

"We've been developing a cure for her corrupted Angel Gene. If we can fix it, then there's a better change that she can go and fight against the great evil at this tournament, whoever he or she is. It is better to have a pure being against a dark one in combat…" He had looked up. Past the shades, his eyes pierced the side 21-year-old's face, "We've made a small development within her blood sample. We managed to separate the genes, purify the angel strain, and put them back together. We have injected that back into her body and hope that this strain will set about in fixing the rest."

That experiment will ultimately fail_. _The corrupt angel will be… _superior_.

Again ignoring the devil within, he nodded slightly, and solemnly in response to Raven's answer, taking it in. After a brief moment, he looked down at his clasped hands, smiling a little, though the motion was unquestioningly there, "Thank you… so much."

Raven managed to crack a very small smile before it faded away, "Jin?"

"Hm?" He asked, looking up at the operative.

"Why are you not with her now? It is obvious you care about her more than yourself."

"Don't worry about it…" He whispered sadly, standing, pushing himself up and off the chair with his hands, "If possible, please send Hwoarang here. He will do a better job in looking after her than I ever could… But for now, I must return to the kitchen. I have guests to tend to. Would it be alright if you stayed here for a while?"

"I had every intention to. But I can't stay for too long, alright? Probably about half an hour."

"That is more than enough time," He turned away and returned to the two females in the kitchen.

Now though, he sat in the same position he had been previously, watching the back of the individual exit the room and close it softly behind him. He heard a youthful individual sound on the other side of Razer's phone, and Raven had told him to bring Hwoarang here. It appeared as though the Japanese youth would have to do all the explaining to the two Koreans.

Xiaoyu and Asuka were in the same room as in, looking at her strangely. Xiaoyu's hands were clasped over her mouth, suppressing all form of noise, whether it was a shriek or a sob. As for her Japanese friend, her arms were folded across her stomach as she tapped both of her shoed feet (she had located her other shoe underneath a chair, but behind a garbage bin, somehow. It must have rebounded off the wall when the stupid Korean kicked it).

The 17-year-old managed to speak up, "**Why are you bothering?** **Think about it, Jin! After everything she did to you… Why are you still here now, sitting in that chair, making sure she'll be alright? Sure, I know you love her, but after that huge bitch totally crushed your heart, you shouldn't be doing this! You should've just gone 'cheese it!' and slammed the door. So, why?**"

Both Ling and Jin looked to her, the former smiling a little, amused. The latter looked down at his feet, "**I want to.**"

The Kazama girl unfolded her arms and sighed. After a brief moment of pure silence, she straightened up and bid the two good bye, wished Athane a quick recovery (for whatever was wrong), and left the two best friends alone in the room to watch over another one of their friends.

The 18-year-old's hands finally came down from her mouth. She took a few steps to her left and grabbed another chair. She brought it next to Jin's and sat down with him. Okay, so it wasn't a large gesture, but it was still something. She didn't want him to suffer alone like this. Not if she could help it any how. Not while she was here.

He had suffered alone for long enough.

Xiaoyu gently put her left hand on his knee and patted it, "**Hey. Cheer up, Jin-Jin.**"

Old feelings flared when he rested his head on her shoulder, and put his own hand over hers. He started to speak as he continued monitoring the Greek's face for any signs of an internal nightmare, "**Xiaoyu… I never got to say this… because I was too shy, and because I have been away from you for so long… But… thank you for always being there for me. It means so much to me to have someone by my side through everything. I wish I could return such a deed, but we both know of my tendency to vanish when I cannot handle something anymore, or when I… change. But still, thank you so much. And I mean it.**"

Her voice was strong and unwavering, full of positive reception. The message was received and responded to, both vocally and physically (the latter being one arm slung around his muscular form in a hug), "**Not a problem.**"

They sat there in silence for a long time. The 21-year-old suppressed the urge to break down, but he couldn't, he _wouldn't. _Ling didn't need to see him like this, and it would do Storm Wind no good in recovery, either. He needed to be strong, for both of them, though it was a difficult task when so much emotion could be generated just by looking at one youth, and being touched by the other. Two of the three most important people in his life, though one created so much heartache by not understanding and jumping to conclusions.

Finally, there were three hard knocks at the door. The Chinese fighter jumped up in a hurry, her sudden actions and rather thunderous voice almost scaring the shit out of the Kazama male, who was in a silent and serene state, "There's Hwoarang!"

With an energetic bounce in her step, she put her slim, white hand on the doorknob and opened it hurriedly. On the other side stood said Korean, Seong-Hada, and Miharu, surprisingly. The former, who was standing in the middle, and whose hands were pressed to his ribs (still from the match against Kazuya, presumably), slid past her, like a cat, and went straight to the woman in the bed. Although he had tried to mask the amount of concern from Miharu, she easily saw it, and Xiaoyu easily identified the somewhat notable frustration in her Japanese counterpart's face.

Seong-Hada moved by next, hugging the Chinese girl in greeting, before following his leader, going towards his metaphorical older sister. This left the two 18-year-old's together, and it was here the pigtailed one spoke in a whisper, "**Mi… um… Are you… Are you alright?**"

"**Just… thinking,**" Came the equally quiet and delayed reply.

With a slight nod, she stepped aside as the final individual entered the room. Ling closed the door quietly behind her and placed both her hands behind her back, still monitoring the Hirano girl, following her. There was frustration, agitation, sadness, curiosity, thought, and a few other nameless emotions swimming throughout her face alone, "**Are you absolutely sure…?**"

She did not receive a response. Miharu completely ignored the question and spoke, her voice cutting through the silent tension rather quickly, having the remaining three heads snap her way, "Looks like it's the old gang again, hey? With a new addition. When was the last time we were like this? Just us, in a room, like this?"

Her heart sank as Hwoarang's head snapped away once she had finished speaking, his determination set in stone. He was sitting in the seat next to Kazama, and had pulled it away from him a little as he spoke to Seong-Hada privately in Korean, "**SH, you know the drill. Cushion, tissues, warm damp cloth. C'mon.**"

Silently, he nodded without question, and turned away, searching for such items.

Ling looked at Miharu once more, seeing how the brightness fell a little. So it was Hwoarang who was disturbing her. She looked towards Jin, whose forehead was pressed against the palms of his hands, his fingers threaded in his hair. His dark brown eyes though, were elsewhere, watching the individual next to him as he played doctor. Her gaze then shifted to the 'doctor', the Blood Talon, whose hands were finally away from his ribs, and now shaking a little as he checked his best friend's neck for the strength of her pulse.

The Chinese youth looked away from them and took the Japanese girl's arm, starting to lead her into the kitchen at the opposite end of this room, leaving the three of them alone, "Give us a shout if something happens, or if you need anything. We'll be in the kitchen, and so will Seong-Hada."

The only acknowledgement she received was from a small nod from Kazama, and that was all she needed.

Once she left, the Blood Talon spoke quietly, moving her hair out of the way to inspect for the severity of the horn wounds. They were there, though not as bad as normal, fortunately, "What happened to her…? What's going on…?"

Jin told everything he knew in an equally quiet voice, and by the time he was done, he thought that he wouldn't be able to hold himself together anymore. So much stuff had happened because of Razer – to him and to Hwoarang, and to everyone she knew. She was truly an influential person, whether it was for the good or the bad. The other man's reaction by the end of it was a long, agitated sigh, and resting his chin on the palm of his fist.

It didn't keep a small smile from appearing on his face as he spoke quietly to her, slipping into his native tongue to keep Kazama from understanding what he was saying, "**Hey, you're doing it. You're getting a cure. You're gonna get better, Raze. And it's about time, too. I just wish you told me what was happening.**"

There was a long pause of silence before the 19-year-old stumbled back in the room with the items his older friend had requested. He handed him the cushion first, which was used to place under her lower head as a second pillow. Next came the cloth, which he put upon her forehead to relax her, and to keep from her breaking out into a fever, as she had done a few times before, or something else just as stupid. Exactly _how _it 'prevented' it, he didn't know, but he normally did it for comfort reasons. Last came the tissues, which were used to start cleaning the visible wounds, such as her head and her fingers. He knew the back wounds would be there, and fierce, though he didn't feel it was appropriate to fix it up at the moment.

Seong-Hada caught a Korean 'thank you', and an English one from a foreign source. He looked to Jin and smiled appreciatively, glad that he was here and able to help her. He turned away from the both of them like a simple child, and went into the kitchen where Xiaoyu and Miharu currently resided. He could smell tea, and it smelt damn good.

"So… how many times have you had to do this…?" Jin asked quietly, watching him transition between procedures.

"Lost count."

He nodded a little and pushed the chair he was in back, giving the Blood Talon more space. Silence remained in this room, though in the other, he could hear the two girls and the boy chattering away, trying to keep a happy vibe in the place. He spoke again, "Do you need help?"

"Nah," He looked away for a moment, scanning the area for a bin, and found one near his feet. He dumped the used tissues in hurriedly and continued working carefully, "What did he mean 'the darkness' at this tournament? There's not another Ogre, is there?"

"It's… hard to explain. Xiaoyu's grandfather, Wang Jinrei, has explained it to her though, so fortunately Razer does know. I do not know how I will be able to word it to you, let alone if you will understand any of it… I'm not insulting you or anything, but it is long and complicated any how. I struggled to understand it, too."

"Well explain it, because if she's gonna be fighting this thing, I'm going with her."

"No, Hwoarang. It is too risky for you, a mere mortal," He recoiled immediately and bowed his head, "**I'm sorry.**"

Fortunately he knew what that Japanese phrase meant and shrugged his shoulders, "Forget about it."

With a long sigh, the 21-year-old began to explain to the Blood Talon of Jinpachi Mishima (to which immediately Hwoarang rolled his eyes and said, "Mishima this, Mishima that… Is there a world that _doesn't_ revolve around you guys?" "I am a Kazama, and don't you forget it." "You get my point. Look, fuck it, just keep going") and how he too possessed a strand of the Devil Gene. By the time he was done, all possible treatment had been conducted fully, and the Korean was left with free hands once more.

"How complicated does this need to be?"

"I do not know, Hwoarang, but that is why I believe it would be best if you stayed away. Jinpachi would tear you apart in a second."

"And you think I'm just gonna sit aside and let him tear _her _apart? You _know _for a fucking fact that I'm stronger than her! You've fought both of us! Furthermore, out of fifty three arm wrestles, and _yes I've kept track, _I've won thirty six of 'em. What's that tell you?"

A small smile graced his features, "That she won seventeen of those arm wrestles?"

Despite himself, the Blood Talon found himself grinning a little as well, "No, that it'd be better if I fought with her. Hell, you too. I mean, this is a super evil old guy who's tainted and probably has that trademark gay-ass hairstyle, like the old man's. Safety in numbers, and she needs all the help she can get, yeah?"

He nodded a little and looked to the sleeping 20-year-old, "I suppose you are correct."

Silence appeared once again, frustrating both males. The Korean leant forward, peeled off his goggles so they were now hanging around his neck, and rested his head in one hand, staring at the floor, "Can you… y'know… do the mind thingy for me? See how the stuff's going? And tell her that she's safe?"

Jin nodded and quietly leant over to Razer, placing his fingers on both temples. He closed his eyes and searched for the link to get through to her mind, that stupid gene link, but he could not locate it. He furrowed his eyebrows and searched once more, finding it, though was unable to get through. Well that was a frustrating surprise.

He imagined a door. It was a large door, and around it was this everlasting wall he refused to physically charge at and knock down. He wanted to enter her mind on her own terms, not on his. He could see himself tapping the door, awaiting the answer that never arrived. He could thereafter see himself reaching a gloved hand towards the dull doorknob, and twisting it, only to find it would not move at all. He tried once more, and it still refused to budge.

She was purposely shutting him out. Why, he didn't know, and he didn't believe it was intentional anyhow.

He swallowed, feeling fear consume him, though it did not feel as though it was his own fear. What was going on?

The trepidation you feel is her own. It is the lock on that door, on the other side.

_Is she afraid that… I will hurt her? _Kazama inquired sadly, about to take his hands away.

I don't think so. More so of what is going on inside, in my opinion. Think about it, there are changes going on. She has an unconscious corrupt angel in one corner, and in the other is a possible purer angel, slowly 'fixing' the remaining gene strands. Do you not think that she would be afraid of what could happen when the unconscious one awakens? Or furthermore, if this attempt at salvation fails?

_I suppose…_

Can you feel that? She is reaching out to find out who you are. She is trying to identify your energy.

He pressed his fingers against her a little harder, hoping that it would work. He imagined himself as lightning, as fatal lightning that would strike and then flee without warning, moving silently, like a ghost. Never staying in one place, always skittering away after impact, down unpredictable paths. Nomadic. Loud. Strong. Fierce. Dangerous.

At last, an answer, _'Jin? Is that you?'_

'_Yes.'_

The door still did not open, though he tried, _'What are you doing here…? It's so dark… I feel so blind…'_

'_Raven brought you to me once you fell asleep.'_

A brief pause. He heard a thud on the other side, and felt pressure against the door, beneath his hand. In this, he imagined that she was leaning against this 'door', either trying to prevent him from entry, or to keep away from the processes that were occurring in her mind, _'I am cold.'_

…What an absurd thing to suddenly say.

_She is cold…? 'What do you mean?'_

'_I am afraid.'_

'_Well, you should not be. You are protected.'_

Another pause occurred, as though she were thinking. She answered with the same cryptic words, _'I am cold.'_

He visualised himself taking his hand off the door, and spoke to her once more, _'I do not understand…'_

'_I am cold. And I am afraid.'_

Perhaps they mean the same thing. But how to disarm it before she endures frostbite?

"Well?"

The Japanese youth opened his eyes, losing sight of the wall and the door that were metaphorically before him. He knew, though, that he was still standing there… it was just that he could not see it any longer, and was back in the real world. He looked over his right shoulder and to Hwoarang, who was eagerly looking at him, who sometime in the past x-amount of minutes had pushed his goggles back up, and was now awaiting a response. The words rolled off his tongue slowly, "I… cannot get through the door."

"Door?" He asked, not understanding.

"The front line of her mind, to put it in military terms for you. She is speaking with me, though."

The 21-year-old sighed and looked away and down, towards his right. His head was still resting in his hand, and his spare hand was currently preoccupied in grasping his knee with all the strength he could summon. He took in a deep breath, trying to control his worries before they started to form tears. He tried to keep the grit and frustration from his voice as he spoke, "I feel so useless…"

"What do you mean…?"

"I mean… I… I… It's… difficult to… I just feel _useless_, okay?!" Hwoarang looked up, angry, "Look at you. You're fucking _talking_ to her inside her fucking _head_, and I'm fucking sitting out here doing absolutely nothing, worrying myself _sick _as to how she's doing… And you can't even get through a fucking 'door' so you can tell me that she's alright! I can't even fucking tell her that we're here so she doesn't have to worry! So she's not afraid!!"

Kazama furrowed his eyebrows, his dark brown eyes looking straight into the Korean's sienna ones, seeing everything he was saying in his eyes, and more that was currently unspoken, and unknown. There was a certain power in his words and his voice, a certain strength, burning with emotion.

…Burning…

"You don't know how long I've felt like this, how long I've been like this, Kazama! You don't know how long I've been the one watching her shake and scream and hit and cry, and _know _that I can't do _anything _to stop _any_ it!!"

Jin was sure the others could hear him now, even as he continued on. His emotion continued to burn, like a torch, "I'm the confused kid who has no idea what the fuck is going on while she fucking screams me to 'get away' in her sleep! I'm the stupid starving adolescent whose holding the trembling, sick one in his arms, freezing in a fucking train station, thinking of what the fuck I'm gonna do to keep her alive and sane! I'm the idiot adult right now, who is fucking sitting here, like I always fucking do, unable to do _anything_! The fucking _spectator!!_"

Burning.

Torch.

Light.

Fire.

Her voice rang through his head, shaking, _'I am cold.'_

Warmth.

Guidance.

Protection.

Love.

The 21-year-old reflected quietly on his sudden outburst, and smiled. His love was like a beacon, he thought – one Razer needed at the moment. He still continued to smile, much to the anger of the Blood Talon, who sparked up again, "What the _fuck _are you smiling at?! Stop fucking smiling at me and fucking knock down that fucking door! _Please!!_" To his surprise, Jin saw something break in his eyes, as the anger died and despair replaced it when he looked down at his hands, as his voice snapped, "Knock down the door…"

The Japanese youth took away his right hand, which caused Razer within his mind to stress (_'Jin? Jin! Where are you going…?'_), and grabbed the Korean's wrist. Hwoarang looked up at him for a moment curiously, trying to conceal the tears, and watched as he put his hand in Athane's right one, the closest to him. He spoke quietly, gently, "Hold her hand, and think of fire."

He quirked an eyebrow, not understanding. What the _fuck _was he high on?

"Hold her hand, and think of fire."

_What is fire, Hwoarang?_

That fucking voice again…

He looked up, as though to look at the owner of the voice, as Kazama looked away, re-establishing full contact with the Greek. What was fire? What was it symbolic of? What did it provide, what did it mean to people? Why was fire so valued in humanity? One of the most treasured aspects of nature…

Despite himself, he started to answer the female voice, _It can offer light, like a torch, yeah?_

_Yes, yes. Good, what else?_

_Fire provides heat, too. Keeps you all nice and toasty and stuff. _

_Now you're getting it! Not as stupid as you make yourself out to be, hmm?_

The Blood Talon smiled to himself, amused at the voice's comment, and the fact that he was getting her prompts. He looked away from the ceiling, and back towards Kazama, who seemed to be making progress. His body was not as stiff as it had been previously, and he appeared much more relaxed. His touch was gentle, he was sitting a little taller in his seat, and there was a small smile on her face. He wondered what was happening.

He was still trying to get her to open the door, _'Razer?'_

'_Jin? Why did you leave me? Your thunder… lessened.'_

'_I did not leave you. I needed my hand.'_

'_Oh.'_

He smiled a little, _'How do you feel?'_

'_What do you mean?'_

'_Are you still cold? Are you still scared?'_

'_Yes…'_

'_Well then, open the door. Let me into your mind.'_

'_But…'_

'_Trust me. I have something you want, and you can only get it if you open the door for me.'_

There was hesitance. His gloved hand, which was on the door, felt weight leave it. Here she goes. She was standing up and about to open it, about to let him in. He was about to get a glimpse and see the changes for himself, and then he could assure her on the Korean's behalf that she was safe, and that everything would be fine. Then she could go back to sleep, if she wished, or wake up, and he himself could tell Hwoarang that everything was fine.

The door disappeared, and so did the wall. He had stopped imagining it, and standing before her was the timid youth, who was looking up at him expectantly, like an innocent child, wondering what the 'gift' was. They stood there for a while, feeling the wind in the area, staring at each other, before she finally spoke, _'Well?'_

'_What can you feel now that you have stopped shutting me out? Now that you have stopped shutting out your immediate world?' _He inquired softly, walking a little closer to her, having broken the staring contest, now looking around the area. It did not feel as dark and dank as last time. It was calm, but still windy, which he presumed to be her own energy, and he felt as though something was changing around him. That was good. The treatment must've been partially working then. And she herself looked fine, just a little scared and unsure.

Jin looked back at her as she paused, closing her eyes, opening her mind. He found it intriguing that this had been taught to her, too. To open her mind and feel the energy. But from his knowledge, her Mother passed down the gene, so she must've known of this technique that way, or something.

He smiled when a big smile of her own graced her face. Razer opened her eyes, her leaf green eyes, and looked back up at him in a way that reminded him of the 18-year-old girl he grew close with – the one who intrigued him beyond all belief, who helped fight the gene with him, who would do anything to keep the ones she loved protected.

'_I can feel fire.'_

Another pause, and a bigger smile. She looked down to her hands, which were resting in her pockets. She rocked backwards and forwards on her heels in a manner that immediately reminded him of Xiaoyu, particularly when she was younger.

'_I feel warm, and safe. And I can see again because of it. The fear is no longer like a mist, to me. A fog.'_

'_See? There's nothing to be afraid of. You are changing, in a good way. So embrace it. Give your body as long as it needs to wake up from the intrusion.'_

She nodded a little, and thought she spotted someone behind him. It was her imagination, though if she tried to focus, she could feel the origin of the fire coming from that direction. The origin of the warmth, the guidance, the protection, the…

'_I can feel him now.'_

His smile grew, _'Good. His protection has been received by you. I have done as he asked.'_

So did hers,_ 'Tell him thank you.'_

Kazama nodded and went to turn away, went to take his hands off her head, but she stopped him. Curious, he looked back at her and saw her approaching him slowly, hands still behind her back in the childish, youthful manner.

Razer looked down at her feet, and reached out her arms, encircling them around his muscular form. A hug. A thank you. A display of affection. He had almost forgotten what a hug felt like, coming from her, considering all the shit they had both put up with in the last two months. He returned it roughly, quickly, as though this would be the last time they'd see each other… but both knowing he'd be there when she'd awaken.

'_A shame… that you'll run from me when we leave this place. Just to protect me.'_

'_It is for your own benefit.'_

'_You keep saying that, but that doesn't make it so.'_

He let go and grinned, _'I will be there when you wake up… but you are going back to your room without me. Okay?'_

'_Okay, Jin.'_

He finally let go and opened his eyes, her mind dissolving. The 21-year-old looked out the window, past the fluttering, see-through white curtains that was above his bed, still seeing the Monday's afternoon orange light, seeing some snow slowly drift down from the sky, steadily blanketing the ground below in pure white, covering it completely.

White is new. White is pure. The start of something new.

He looked over his shoulder to see the Blood Talon still holding her hand with his own. His other hand had joined it, covering the 20-year-old's smaller, tanned one completely, as though trying to offer the most of everything he had, of everything he had to offer her. His eyes were closed, though if they were open, they would've been looking at their joint hands, and his body was hunched over. He was sitting on the edge of the chair, having tried to get as close as possible to her, and his breathing was steady, as though to calm himself.

It was strange to see him so focused, so peaceful, and so determined. It was a welcome change from the normal 'you're an asshole' look that was so often shot the Kazama youth's way, or the 'haha look at that retard, s/he thinks s/he can fight' one that was shot at other spectators, sometimes (for example, Xiao, but that was only for fun). It was almost as though the Korean was sleeping, or meditating.

"Hwoarang?"

The 21-year-old's eyes fluttered open, as though he was surprised. Once he got over the initial shock, he furrowed his eyebrows a little, and the flame once again appeared in his sienna eyes. He opened his mouth, speaking, "Is she okay?"

"She is fine. She was just a little afraid of the changes, but the fear has gone, now that light was brought to see past the mist."

He nodded, looking back down at their hands, "Okay, good… Okay."

Jin looked back out the window, peering past the see-through white curtains once more. Snow continued to fall, and the rich, orangey colour of the sky was slowly turning into a nice shade of pink, and a paler orange. For the first time in months, he had a true smile on his face – one that he knew would not fade as quickly as the previous ones had today, "She said thank you."

He too smiled when he felt her fingers slowly move, as though stroking his hand, "I know."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Me again. Sup? Anyway sorry about the late post. You're just getting closer and closer to where I am in the writing, and I'm trying to delay the gap until I can finish writing it. Also this whole energy thing? I've been playing with this idea for a long while, then I read _'Morning Rain' _by Enkida, and s/he had the same idea… So I figured, screw it, it was well received and understood with her, hopefully I can get a similar response. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	30. The Oncoming Storm

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco.f_

_**Chapter Thirty: The Oncoming Storm**_

_Breathing. Breathing. Heavy breathing._

_It's so short now, so heavy, and it's directly on your face. You can smell blood, you can feel blood on your hands, painting them a rich red. You feel as though you are holding something, yet you don't know what. It feels smooth, precious, elegant, swan-like… _wrong _under your hands_.

_You vaguely remember screams, and pleas to stop, to not do this… You recall fear ebbed deep within brown eyes, beautiful brown eyes staring up at you, and pink lips violently shaking, moving, but no sounds coming out, despite what the woman -… No, the young girl, desperately attempted to say. _

_And just now, a sickening crack. Your hands moved. What you are holding is now twisted, disjointed… yet still _wrong.

_Breathing. Breathing. Heavy breathing._

_It's stopped now. It's not coming up at you, but rather coming from you. They are large and raspy, as though you just achieved a task with great difficulty. Your body aches, and it feels as though the girl tried to give you a beating before you accomplished this task. Not only this, but it feels almost like your body had caused pain to itself before all this occurred._

_You run your tongue along your teeth and discover you have fangs. So, that's what happened before she tried to fight back against you. You transformed. And as a result, you overpowered the youth, sent her spiralling down terror, hurling towards pain, and head first towards – what is that scent? Death? Yes… it is unmistakeably death. You killed her. She's dead. You snapped her neck, her smooth, precious, elegant, swan-like – what is that new scent? Another person coming around?_

_Light. The light in the area has just been turned on. Your eyes widen and your hands shake as you drop the girl on the ground. Her pigtails are half undone, the rest of the hair half splayed on the blood-stained, white floor. Her neck is going ways it shouldn't possibly go, her body looks broken and badly beaten. Her slim wrists look as though they were made of porcelain. So small, so thin, so _fragile.

_The thing that still haunts you are Ling Xiaoyu's dead eyes staring back up you, asking only one question – _Why?

_What have you done, mortal?_

_You hear another female call out to you in shock and horror. Her voice is trembling violently, as though it is disbelieving that you, the simple _monster, _just killed someone for no apparent reason. Not for self defence, not to end her suffering of some type of disease that would've killed her in the future – _nothing. _You killed for _leisure. _Because _you wanted to.

_For _fun_._

_The colour of the Earth. That's what Xiaoyu's eyes were like. And now as you turn away from them and stare behind you, over your shoulder, deep into forest green eyes, you feel yourself clenching your fists, ready to attack once more, to erase the witness to this scene. You know, deep in her heart, that although she loves you, her morals will stand out on top, and she will report you, as much as it will hurt, that _you _are the murderer of the 18-year-old Chinese girl, Hakke Sho and Hikka Ken practitioner, an Iron Fist participant, Ling Xiaoyu._

_But this one was different. She is actually a threat to you. She _can _kill you, because of what is within._

_God help you if you ever got to that fucking redhead. That obnoxious, ostentatious, brainless, egotistical prick. You know then you'd be up against the real, the true her, and she wouldn't spare a kick or a punch for your sake. You would lose her love, her friendship, her mercy… Everything._

_She comes at you with a strong right kick. It lands squarely in your stomach, but it does little to deter you. You catch it with your arm before it manages to fall back down, and pull her off balance with your other leg. She falls onto her back, growling in pain, and makes an attempt to hurt you with her fists. These do little to wound you. Her kicks were always stronger than her punches._

_You fall on top of her, and with ease, you break the leg you caught. Her scream is like music. A symphony of high strung notes, pitched directly at piercing the ear, to split your hearing. You can see clear tears sliding down her tanned cheeks, yet deep in her eyes, there is still the determination to honour Xiaoyu's memory. Funny, you always thought she hated her as much as she hated the entity inside of her. _

_You release her broken leg, deliberately crushing your leg onto hers, causing more pain, and grab the coming left fist. In your clawed hand, you easily snap her wrist, causing more pain, and then, each of her fingers. Torturous, aren't you? Tortured mind, tortured soul… This is so fun. So delicious._

_Her free hand is lying splayed by her side, pinned under your other hand. It is completely useless, as is her other good leg, and she is completely aware of that. Her eyes dart around in fear of what you may or may not do. Tortured minds always do their flip tricks, yes? One minute you may decide in letting her live, though incredibly wounded… and the next… you may consider having her… Whether she allows you, or not…_

_Submission is a beautiful thing._

_Blame her. Have her. Kill her._

_Your other hand grabs her by her hair, pulling it down, towards her back, towards the carpet. Her chin goes up, pointing towards the ceiling, and she growls angrily, painfully. You peer into her eyes, seeing red flecks start to embellish them. Small flames igniting in the rich forest, threatening to burn it down entirely, until nothing but fire is burning there where the forest once stood proud. Yet behind that small sign of transformation, you see total fear._

_Fear is another beautiful thing. Isn't it, mortal? Don't deny it._

_You release her right arm and grab her throat. Your claws are on either side of it, cutting off the circulation to her brain. She too will die tonight. The last living person who you value more than your own life is about to die. She will join your wretched Mother, and that bouncing immature baby in wherever the hell they'll end up. Hey, if they are going to hell, if they're _all _in hell, then perhaps you can catch them again, as you are, like this, the _monster _you were destined to be._

_Show them what you truly are. Show them the oncoming storm._

_She's smacking you, trying to get you to release her. It does, but not for long. Your hand releases her throat, and she takes in a massive gulp of air, relieved at the freedom. Still, you can smell her fear, and she knows you can. You grin darkly, pearly white fangs shining for a brief moment, before sending your whole left, clawed hand into the chest and rippling through the flesh, smashing through Razer Athane's rib cage._

_You can hear small hisses break out from between your teeth. Your only supply of air as you start to shake._

_Breathing. Breathing. Heavy breathing. _

_What have you done, mortal?_

_What have you done?_

"**NO!!**"

Jin Kazama sat up in a rush, sweat sliding down his body. He was shaking, and was now in a small amount of pain. He couldn't see through the darkness, but after prodding the surface below him, he realised he was on the carpet.

He fell out of bed. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Wonderful. Simply _spectacular_.

You amuse me so much, mortal.

_You shut up, _came the growl.

"Jin?"

He froze and turned his head towards the left slowly. Sitting on there was Razer, who he decided not to move. They had shared a bed before (and there was no where else to sleep. His room didn't have a couch for some reason), and with how they were in regards to close-ness again, he figured she wouldn't mind. After all, she treated Hwoarang the same, and she certainly never minded when he was sleeping next to her.

"What?" He inquired in a whisper, standing, rubbing his sore rear.

"You alright?"

The Japanese youth chose his words carefully as he climbed back in next to her, aiming to face away from her, staring at the table and cupboards across from him as opposed to her and the wall, "I… I have… been better."

She hesitated in her speech. Her voice was sleep-ridden, "Bad dream…?"

He pulled the covers back over him and settled into the mattress, looking down, still shaking. That dream he had just had was a common one, but that was the farthest and most detailed it had gotten. He managed to wake himself up many times around the time he'd break her leg. It never got to the point where he actually… killed her.

It frightened him beyond all belief. The dreams were becoming more violent, more aggressive.

And of Xiaoyu? There was _never_ a dream like that where he _didn't _kill her. And it was always at the start. If it was that one, the one where they were both murdered in his room, he always snapped her neck, twisting it in wrong directions. And the devil within, who was like the narrator of sorts, was always correct in one regard.

It was always Ling's questioning Earthy eyes staring back up at him that haunted him day in and day out. He had often found himself trying to not look into her eyes, for that would strike up the same image as the ones in his dreams. Whether it was killing her in his room or in the forest, that one factor was the same. She'd always stare back at him.

A shaky sigh left the Kazama youth's mouth. He curled up and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove such images out of his head as quickly as possible, before he abandoned the girl beside him to train himself to the point of exhaustion, and collapse in the bedroom once again, hoping for a dreamless sleep… only to have the entire thing repeat over and over and over again in his mind.

He froze once more when slender arms captured him, and when he felt Razer's form press against his back comfortingly. Her hands rested at his midsection, one hand gripping the other's wrist to ensure captivity. He looked over his shoulder, seeing her rest her head against his back, hearing her speak, "The nightmare's over, Jin. Go back to sleep."

"How can I when I have seen yours and Xiao's deaths by my own hands…?"

"You just have to ignore it. It wasn't you, it was Devil. You didn't kill us, he did. Blame him in your dream, not yourself."

"You speak as though you suffer the same dreams."

"Come complain to me when you've got your hand around my throat. I've almost killed Hwo twice. Frankly once was enough. And… I have been having nightmares too. I had one just now. I woke up before you though."

"What was yours about…?"

"I'd prefer not to share at the moment. I've had it before. You may've heard me scream out down the hall, and then someone yell 'shut up' at Hwo and I, twice, when he came to check on me. Anyway… Come on, Snobby Rich Kid. Go to sleep. You've got a fight in the morning."

Jin turned away, now facing back towards the right. He was staring at the opposite end of the room for a good five, silent minutes before sleep began to catch up with him, before his eyelids got heavy and started dragging down, sealing his dark brown eyes away from the world for a little while longer, "**I love you.**"

There was a large hesitance in her response, though he could tell it was because of her heart being torn between two people who loved her, _not_ because she was only saying it to make him feel better, or saying it and not meaning it. He could sense the feeling deep inside, and knew that it was strong, knew that it was real and true, "Love you too."

* * *

His mind remained a chaotic mess, even in the morning.

He had woken up to the new day, Tuesday, to find that he was still in Razer's arms, and in turn, he was holding her in his. It felt nice, as though there was no nightmare, no problem, as though they had never broken up to begin with… but… there _was _a problem. The devil within was extremely active, and had been since the end of the 3rd Tournament, and he didn't want to have any problems arise because of it.

The 21-year-old looked over his shoulder, searching for the clock. Finding it, he noticed that it was quarter to ten. His match was at eleven thirty against number 12. He couldn't help but shake a bad feeling that it was someone he knew, someone he cared about, someone he didn't want to fight. It was bad enough that in the last tournament he had to fight Miharu _and _Julia…

Jin released the woman in his arms and slid out of her own. He got out of bed and rubbed his face tiredly, strolling over towards the kitchen with the intent of finding something to eat. He was so hungry. The nightmares always made him hungry… Much hungrier than normal.

To his annoyance, he found nothing. With a sigh, he turned to get a glass of water, and as he peered down the corridor, he saw Athane stretching her legs on the floor. She must've just woken up, or something. With a slight smile, he watched her for a bit longer, seeing how with ease her fingers curled way over the top of her foot. He assumed she had done the splits horizontally, considering how her body was. Then again, Tae Kwon Do required an awful lot of flexibility.

He turned away, cursing quietly in Japanese when he realised that the glass he had been filling with tap water had overfilled. He switched off the flow and took a large sip from the rim of the glass, careful not to spill any of it over. Along with being abnormally hungry due to the nightmares, Kazama also found himself abnormally thirsty in the wake of them.

"Morning."

The Japanese man swallowed the water in his mouth so he could speak, and didn't turn around, "Good morning."

"Did you get to sleep okay?"

What a stupid question… No. You slept horribly, remember? It took you at least an hour to get back to sleep, and even then you kept waking up, fearful of falling into another nightmare. You had such light sleep, mortal, and you have a match today. I cannot wait until number 12 pummels you into the dirt… Or alternatively, you pummel him or her into the ground, with my help.

He nodded, though everything Devil had said was true, and downed the rest of the glass. It satisfied his thirst to a certain extent, though he knew that quite soon, he would be parched and require more of it. Jin set the glass down in the sink, following his action with his eyes, "Thank you."

He heard her clothes move, as though being crumpled, as though she shrugged hurriedly and childishly, "Its fine."

"Are there any… changes…?"

"Nothing yet. Nothing I've noticed," She replied, crossing her arms across her stomach, looking down at her arms.

"There is no food here, so I cannot feed you…" Jin said firmly, still not looking at her, preoccupied with observing the sink itself.

"I kinda figured, what with the way you were pacing around and stuff."

A small smile appeared as he finally looked over his shoulder. Kazama stared for a moment, before realising his action, and turned around wholly as she looked up. His gaze now lingered at the window on his far left side on the opposite end of the room, "You know… with you and I awake… you know what comes next, yes?"

"A search for breakfast?" Athane asked hopefully. She just wanted to spend time with him and not have either worry about their Genes. If it was only for a little while, if it was only to reaffirm their rebuilding friendship, then that was enough for her. She just hoped that he understood that and felt the same, too.

Brown eyes dropped to the floor, still looking to the left, "No… It is time for you to leave."

There was a long pause before she sighed, "Alright. But… when will you get over your fear of losing control and killing either me or Xiao, Jin? Are you going to continue pushing us away? Are you going to spend the rest of your life isolating yourself from the people you love and care about? Are you going to live your life _alone, _and die _alone_?"

He never got to answer her when a tapping came at the front door. Jin reluctantly flicked his head towards it, thereafter looking at her sadly, "I assume it is someone coming to get you. Go with them, and make you sure rest up. Do not exhaust yourself. Whoever you are up against in the next match will most probably be a challenge."

"Will you be there?"

Another pause arrived. An answer didn't come out of his mouth as the tapping at the front door arrived again, followed by a youthful 'Raaaaze! How're ya doing? You'd better be alright now, I'm bored! Let's go get some breakfast! C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon!'; who both immediately identified to be Seong-Hada. If they both listened close enough, they heard other thumping noises and jingling noises, most probably the 19-year-old jumping up and down like he sometimes did. His necklace was probably the source of the jingle noise.

"You should go before he wears a hole in the ground…" Jin teased with a smirk.

She grinned at him and gave him the finger light-heartedly, backing out of the kitchen backwards, before turning in the main room, opening the front door, ignoring the 'FINALLY!' that arrived, slipping outside, and closing the door behind her. It was a good five minutes after the Greek left did the 21-year-old realise that his smirk was still plastered to his face.


	31. Step By Step

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

Author's Note: Awful, awful news lol. I'm having a hell of a lot of trouble writing this story… and I have two assignments due on the coming Thursday for Tafe that REALLY need doing. But I find myself trying to write this story instead. So for the next two weeks, MINIMUM, **I am putting **_**With Me **_**on hiatus. **Once I've done the assignments and handed them in on Thursday, I will put all my time into writing again. The extra week (or more) is so I can get ahead of you guys again, because let me tell you, as of this chapter, you're nine chapters behind me, and I want to make the gap bigger, alright? This doesn't mean I'll stop writing or anything, just for this story for the time being. _**No Tomorrow **_**is much easier to write, at the moment, than **_**With Me, **_**so expect an update for that fic within those two weeks to make up for it.** I'm really, really sorry guys.

By the way…

* * *

_Ten chapters until the end (excluding the Two Epilogues)._

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-One: Step By Step**_

"Well aren't you in a happy mood?" Razer stated, quirking an eyebrow at the state of her 'younger brother'.

He shrugged and produced a large smile, before batting her coming hand away, "Don't even _think _about pulling my hair."

"Too late, the thought has been generated."

He regardlessly buzzed around her hyperactively like a bee, and began to talk at a million miles an hour, as though he had been hyped up on sugary substances, "Anyway, what, I'm not allowed to be happy? This is normallll! NORMAL! Remember? This is normal Park Seong-Hada before all the shit that happened at the hide out! Nothing's changed, nothing's wrong, and life is good!"

"…Your last name is Park?"

"I never told you?"

"No."

"Well, there ya go!"

He was walking in front of her now, though backwards, hands behind his back, that giant smile still on his face. His attitude was infectious, and Athane had found that her lips were curved in a smile as well. He was taking medium strides back, leaning forward a little, pushing the double doors of the hotel open with his hands. The 20-year-old spoke, "Exactly _what _has put you in such a good mood?"

The Korean boy narrowed his eyes and simply kept smiling, now outside, "Nothing! I woke up this way."

"Right… I get it… Someone had a nice, sexual dream and can't stop thinking about it."

He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, "How many times have I told you to _not _compare me to Hwoarang? Not all guys are like that –" The tone of his voice changed, "Oh! He wants you to visit! He wants you to visit he wants you to visit he wants you to visit! C'mon, let's go visit him! He needs some company anyway!"

Still walking backwards, the youth took one of Razer's hands into his and started to pull her along with him. He sped up a little and then turned around, the threat of walking into someone or tripping over and embarrassing himself making him do so. He eventually broke into a run, dragging the grumbling Greek along with him.

* * *

"What the fuck are you high on today?" Hwoarang inquired, a hand to his head, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of his headache.

"I'm not high."

"Sure. Keep it down then, would you?"

If Seong-Hada were an anime character, a sweat drop would've appeared behind his head, "Sorry."

The chat between the three was minimal, and dialogue primarily belonged to the Blood Talon, who as normal, was bitching about the hospital food which 'tastes like paper'. On the oldest's left side was his fellow Korean, and on his right was the Greek, whose gaze was primarily on him, though it seemed distant.

When five minutes passed after the initial ten, SH sensed the rising tension, hyperactively stood and left them alone, announcing that he was going to find the nurse and ask about hospital food on behalf of Hwoarang, irregardless if he could speak Japanese, and also to find some water for himself.

It took a few moments before the 21-year-old spoke, "What's up?"

"Thank you," She said simply.

He finally looked her way and shook his head, "It was nothing, really."

"I do not think you realise how afraid I was."

"Hm, scared enough I think."

Razer broke her gaze and looked down at her hands, which were placed atop her knees, "I mean it… I probably do not thank you enough… But please, do know that the feeling is there, and so is the appreciation. Thank you for everything."

He smiled and simply placed his larger hand over both of hers, squeezing them, and looked away, up at the ceiling, "I beat Baek. Pretty cool huh? I mean, I couldn't beat him before, but I beat him this time. Well… I didn't _beat _beat him but I won."

"You mean he forfeited."

"Shut it."

Step by step, they heard Seong-Hada re-enter the room, carrying his plastic cup full of water and a little-less life in his eyes. He closed the door silently behind him and took a long sip of the ice cold water before speaking, "They said, about the food, that if you don't like it, go get or make your own food."

Hwoarang looked at him dumbly, the headache obviously taking its toll, "You didn't get an answer, did you?"

He grinned cheekily, "No."

With an exasperated sigh, he spoke once more, "Y'know, I'm surprised you're not at Xiao's match, SH."

"OH CRAP! THAT WAS NOW?! OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP… RAZE, C'MON, WE GOTTA GO!"

"What?"

The last thing she coherently heard was the plastic cup being dropped on the ground, the splash of water following thereafter, the door being violently shoved open, Hwoarang's laughter, yelling nurses, and a violently cursing 19-year-old.

* * *

_Why…?_

Xiaoyu looked at her opponent up and down, nothing but a frown across her porcelain face. His gaze was piercing her, and it felt so cold, yet so afraid, just like her. Afraid of what may happen in the match, afraid of what may happen after this match… Afraid of the world, yet being forced to take it on.

Her hands were pressed to the opposite arm, quivering violently in the cold weather. It was starting to snow, and the yellow bunny hood shirt and white sweat pants were doing little to warm her. She considered surrendering right now, remembering past instances where she was stupid, remembering how his fists hurt her even though he was being _gentle… _But then the other half of her mind made her realise that if she gave up now, she would not be able to help him later.

"I feared this… So much…"

Jin finally looked away after speaking and stood in his stance, shaking. His hood was down, and tears were starting to cloud his vision. This was a fight he didn't want. Not. At. All. He didn't want to fight his best friend, _just _so he could confront the darkness, _just_ so he could do what he was put on the Earth to do…

It was so tempting to throw in the towel – a symbolism of his care, and of his breakdown.

His nightmare was about to become real.

He was going to hurt her, and it would be out of his control. He knew he couldn't back down, and he knew she wouldn't back down either. He couldn't go easy on her, because then he would be beaten and, his cause would be lost. The only thing he could do in this was fight to win, and keep the devil within at bay. It was the only way to keep Ling protected.

Try all you want, Jin Kazama, but that girl will be unmoving in the snow by the end of this match.

When the 21-year-old received three short, quick chops to his torso, the Bayonet Thrust move, he realised the match must have begun in his phasing out; and judging by the sudden attack, they had not waited for him to snap out of it. He regardlessly stumbled back and came at her with two punches and a left axe kick, wincing as the heel slammed straight down on her frail form.

A stab of pain struck him in the heart.

Jin took smaller steps away from her form, knowing that she would have attacked with a rising or sweeping kick. He knew her too well. He had known her for years, and knew how she thought and fought, "**Please give up… If there is someone I do not wish to fight against, it is you.**"

"**I want to save you, Jin. If I give up then I can't go back and fix the past,**" She replied just as painfully, now back in her stance, swinging her left leg at him, catching him at the side of the head – the Cloud Kick. The force of the kick now had her in her Rain Stance, facing away from him, and hurriedly, she conducted the Mistrust Kick, flicking him further into the air, followed by Storming Flower move, shoving him way away.

Her palms remained flat and firm – her fingers, stiff, united and unmoving. She made an attempt to steady her breathing as her best friend stood to his feet, as she saw an inhuman flicker in her eyes. She worried for a moment that perhaps Devil was coming alive under his skin, crawling around step by step, awaiting release.

"**Redemption will never grace me.**"

The Japanese youth ran at her, but stopped a few feet before, starting the three punches that formed Laser Cannon (as it was one known, though now currently known as Evil Intent). The 18-year-old sidestepped quickly, her dainty feet moving step by step as she now circled him in her seemingly hypnotic stance.

She quickly span, feeling energy form in the palm of her hands, and struck him in the side, around the kidney area. Her frown was still upon her face as he buckled forward, though he thereafter turned and released a blind kick, smirking a little (a clear sign of Devil) as it hit the mark.

As he breathed in again to catch his eluded air, the devil within reeled angrily, speaking with venom, The false one has arrived with her worthless, younger Korean counterpart… And it appears some changes have occurred. That damn treatment is working, if only slightly. Her portion is not as active or aggressive… Not good, not good.

The smirk morphed into a smile. At least someone was being saved.

"Xiao! Get up! Don't let him push you around!" Seong-Hada yelled supportively, now standing by Miharu.

The love is strong in this one… It is stronger than the love _you _had for her before meeting your artificial mirror image.

Old feelings flared, and jealousy took a quick rampage throughout him. The two women he cared for the most in the world, the ones who he wanted to be with, the ones he wanted to protect more than anything than the world… were being taken from him from two meagre Korean nuisances.

A Right Roundhouse Punch smashed into Xiaoyu's temple. Her innocent cry went unheard as blood trickled down her white face, staining the beauty. But death leaves nastier stains. This one would have to do for now. The howl of pain was drowned out by rising frustration, rising anger, rising fury, and he couldn't hear anything except Devil siphoning believable lies into his chaotic mind.

You are being replaced.

Double Lift Kick.

Step by step, Seong-Hada fills your shoes.

Savage Sword. She landed in the snow, leaving blood on the snow white area.

…White. Purity. Rebirth.

Step by step, you wither away from Ling's memory… 

Now stained.

…_Away_ from Ling's heart.

Kazama breathed in and out, taking a few more steps back, waiting for her to stand back up, so they could continue fighting. He breathed in the tears and desperately tried to keep them contained. Devil's voice continued ringing through his head – a string of pain, a leak of fuel – everything to keep him going, to have him win…

For the nightmare to continue.

Step by step, Razer moves around you, and away from you…

Indescribable feelings swarmed him infectiously. It was far too strong to be anger or rage, and he could barely contain it. It felt as though for all his life, all he knew was anger, hate, pain, frustration and deceit. A lost soul, not knowing where to go, now being shoved further down a pathway he wasn't sure he wanted to go down. His mind was spinning. Everything was blending together, like crayon scribbles.

…And _back_ into the arms of Hwoarang.

Even as Xiaoyu attacked back, finally, with Dark And Stormy, followed by the same flicking kick, Mistrust; the venomous words were continually pumped into his system, feeding the fire. The way to break him… was to overload him, and have the walls of the dam break, shatter, splinter, collapse… _die_.

Loneliness.

He rolled out of the way of two sweeping kicks, and stood on his own two feet, seeing the Chinese fighter bowed down in her Phoenix Stance. He squinted a little harder to see clear tracks running down her cheeks, most probably the signs of crying. But for what? Didn't she realise that he couldn't be saved? Silly girl, she was hurting herself…

Your calling.

He finally broke as he punched her hard in the stomach, the move he dubbed Corpse Thrust. Silent tears appeared, as did the constant shivering, though he wasn't cold. His brown eyes were now an undecipherable mix of human and Devil, an undecipherable mix of depression and hatred, with only two thoughts in their mind, one for each.

_He's right… He's right… I… Alone… Despair… Solitude… _

His eyes were closed as he continued to fight, his body working without a mind to feed it. It was automatic, it was strong, accurate, and deadly. Heihachi's training finally showed its true roots, though it was all that time ago. The kick after kick and punch after punch to that stupid punching bag in the gym… He could now see the benefits.

…_Forever._

He couldn't hear Athane trying to mentally tell him otherwise.

On the opposite side, the entity continued feeding him such thoughts, whilst focusing on his own – freedom. Keep feeding the mortal his petty little thoughts, and surely he will cave in. The leak has already begun, and step by step as the tears fall, the crack widens, and he leans further forward, waiting for the dash to freedom. Then the nightmare will be real, and the mortal's screams will be real. Then all that is left is to have the rest of it fall into place.

Death, Jin. Death is the future, death is the destiny of the world… Death will consume _all. _Wrath will come crashing down on the world, on the _universe, _and nothing will ever be the same again. You push everyone away in hope to stop it, so that the darkness cannot take away the things most precious to you if, _when _you fight him… yet _you _will bring the death. _You _will be the reaper, by my hand, and my strikes will be languid and excruciating!

His hand darted out to Xiaoyu's throat on Devil's part. He could feel his hand constrict, though his eyes were still closed. It felt as though he was lifting her in the air with the one arm. The strength… the power… it was unbearable.

"Jin!" The 18-year-old whimpered, petrified, "Let m-me go! L-let me… I… I c-can't…"

His cousin's call too went unheard, "**You're better than this, Jin! Overcome him!**"

The young Korean street trash's growl fell on deaf ears, "You've won dammit, drop her!"

Miharu also whimpered too quietly, "What're you doing…? Why are you doing this…?"

'_Stop it.'_

Is it not better that _you _grant them their death than I? A fast, quick, painless death in which they do not suffer, as opposed to their destruction by _me. _Think about it here, Jin. Everybody dies, everybody suffers. Step by step, you helpless mortals weave your life, only to have it annihilated in the blink of an eye. Your Mother died by a monster… Do you want the same thing to happen to Xiaoyu? To Razer? To Asuka? To them _all? _Death by a monster?

"**The only monster here is you…**" He cried, dropping the now unconscious Chinese youth to the ground.

The referee's declaration of the 21-year-old's victory went unheard as the fighter turned and ran far away from the location, step by step. The glue had dissolved, and he couldn't hold the dam back any longer. He was splitting open far too quickly for him to sew shut. Devil and the nightmares continued prying it open, until walls gave way.

_You _are the monster, mortal. _You _are the _real _monster!

Jin Kazama had finally fallen apart.


	32. The Winding Path

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** And weeee're back. Not finished yet. But so damn close. ;) Updates will be now about… once a week. Thanks for your patience guys, I'm really sorry for the delay. Think of this as an early Christmas present XD Speakin' of Christmas. Have a great one! XD

_**Chapter Thirty-Two: The Winding Path**_

Breaking apart at the seams.

Eyebrows furrowed questioningly.

Each threat unravels quickly, until it gets to the centre, like frayed clothing. 

Lips remain pressed together, in a firm line.

That is what is happening to Jin Kazama's mind.

Razer closed Jin's door quietly. He was not inside, and had not been there at all, apparently, since yesterday morning. He had stormed off after his match against Xiaoyu. She had followed him, to a point, but stopped before she was out of everyone's sight. Once Ling was taken to hospital and everything else was fine, she went to search by herself, but came up with nothing.

"Oh, you know Kazama and his disappearing acts," Hwoarang had remarked in a joking manner to everyone, trying to get them to smile a little before they left the hospital, "He'll come back. He can't stay away, y'know?"

As she retired to her own room yesterday evening, having given up on the search, the receptionist pulled her aside to show her the match ups. She half-heartedly looked, and noticed that Hwoarang was thankfully not up against her, but rather a different number. She had wished that she had paid enough attention to take note of everybody's numbers. Her opponent's number was familiar, but nothing came to mind, as her mind was clogged with 'where the hell did Jin run off to' thoughts and 'dammit Hwoarang, stop smiling like that, I'm melting'.

Ugh.

She asked the receptionist who won out of the fourth match from the third round. That match was Eddy Gordo v.s. Lili, and to her surprise, both had apparently knocked each other out. A double ko, something she had only seen once before, whilst training under Baek way back when. In the results of a double knock out, both players were to be eliminated. She vaguely recalled Lili screaming in fury in the hospital, and the nurse thereafter instructing her to 'kindly shut up'. This made the Greek believe that Gordo was successful, but with the new news given to her, it made her frown. Eddy was an acquaintance of hers, and he had entered this tournament to find the murderer of his parents.

Judging by the descriptions he had given her when they spoke about two weeks ago, having accidentally found each other in the Plaza and both being lost, she had a fairly good guess of who the individual was. Still, she protected Kazuya's identity, for whatever reason.

Now though, it was around four in the afternoon on Wednesday. Both herself and her younger Korean counterpart already had their training lesson with Baek, who was recovering well from Hwoarang's blows, and had gone their separate ways. Seong-Hada went to go visit Xiaoyu in the hospital, and Razer had gone to check if Jin was in his room. As she headed back to her own room to change, she noticed that an envelope baring her name was stuck to the door. Curiously, she took it down, stepped inside, opened it, and began to read it as she shut the door behind her:

'_Miss Athane,_

_I request your company at Café Macron as soon as possible. I have information you will require. This is merely a meeting and a discussion. Maybe we can think of a battle plan for you, because I am sure Wang Jinrei has informed you that the foe you will fight is no ordinary one. I have no ill means behind this, Miss Athane, I only wish to help you. If I did have ill means, do you not think I would have cornered you by now and forced you to speak what _you _know?_

_We are on civil terms now, like acquaintances or business partners. Perhaps in another life or time, I could have called you a friend, if it were not for our internal struggles and the directions in which they pull us. As I have mentioned to you previously in the Tournament, I do not wish to hinder you in any way, shape or form. This time around, we are on the same side. We fight for the same cause. And it is for this cause that I ask you to meet me privately._

_Kazuya Mishima.'_

This is obviously about Jinpachi. He has not contacted you in this Tournament unless it was for that reason.

With a light nod, she put the paper down on her bed and looked for new clothes to wear.

* * *

Dark brown eyes spotted a familiar face cautiously entering the eastern side of the mall. The woman in question was looking around for the bright yellow sign that flashed 'Café Macron', and once they were found, along with him, Kazuya watched Razer quickly walk over. He smiled a little and gestured to the seat across from himself, "Please, sit."

Storm Wind sat quickly, crossed her right leg over her left, leant back in the chair and folded her arms across her stomach. Her eyes were narrowed into slits, and he could barely see the green forest sprouting out from behind them. She clearly still didn't trust him, nor wish to be here. She had other things to do, he assumed.

The 49-year-old too leant back in his chair, hands pressed together on the table, "Would you like a drink?"

"Spit out the fucking information."

Pushy, aren't we, Athane? The being taunted.

He immediately did, looking around a little first, before slowly leaning forward (in an attempt to lessen the pain in his back from his match against her counterpart) to speak to her in a whisper. She leant forward as well to listen, "You have fought Heihachi before… Twice actually, in both the 3rd and 4th Tournaments. In the first bout between you, that pitiful excuse for a man almost murdered you. In the second one, you returned the favour, with help from the entity. My Grandfather is much stronger than him, as I hope you have assumed. The thing is, though, I am sure that in his… _demonic _state, he will be impossible to overpower without aid, from within yourself or from a foreign source.

"Then we must take into the account of whether you will make it past your next matches. You will be against two more opponents before taking on my Grandfather. The match before him is the 'public' final match. If you succeed in defeating him, the Mishima Financial Empire will be yours. I do not know you very well, but I have a safe assumption that you will transfer it to someone else. You do not seem to be the… business type to me. The question is, what will we do if you lose your next match? You may have to storm the final one once, or if he decides to appear. I understand, however, that the other three semi-finalists are your friends who are aware of your… condition?"

Athane paused and thought to herself for a long time. She beat Asuka. Of course she was aware of her own 'condition'. Hwoarang beat Baek. He had known since he was 16-years-old. Jin beat Xiao. He had known straight away upon their meeting two years ago. So who was the fourth semi-finalist…?

"…And Steve had the bye," She finally murmured.

Kazuya nodded firmly, "Yes. He was victorious against Panda in Round One, which led him to fight against Christie Monterio in Round Two. He won that, as you know, and after the random match-up selections, he was given the bye. I saw that he was with you and your younger Korean friend upon arrival. I assume you spent the two months with the Englishman? Does he even know what he housed for that time?"

"I didn't stay at his home for very long… I went back home, to my true home, to find myself. And I believe I have. I took Seong-Hada to Steve as he was on the verge of death, and in my neighbourhood area of Korea, they did not take ruffians in. The rest that lived with us were murdered. So while SH recovered in England under the protection of Steve and his Aunt, I went to the place I was running away from. To get to England though, I had to transform… and he saw it. So to answer your question in short, yes, Steve is aware of what is… crawling in my skin."

The younger Mishima paused and leant back. Athane looked up from her hands and at him, seeing his curious and thoughtful expression. After receiving a spat out 'what' that reminded him of the Korean street trash a little, he answered quietly, "That is a very interesting way to put it… 'Crawling in my skin'. For me… Devil always felt like an itch I could not scratch, because he is… under my skin."

She grinned a little, "It's a song lyric from a Linkin Park song."

"You youth and your… music."

She looked back down, still grinning that little bit, "Continue."

He leant back forward, his voice dropped back to the haunting whisper, "As I was saying, the other three semi-finalists are your friends. Surely they will understand if you storm their match? I know that the man named Raven is aware of the darkness, though he does not know where it originates from…" He chuckled a little when the youth's eyebrows raised, "He thought _I _was the problem, originally, at the start of the tournament… So he had pulled me aside. Any who, continuing on, I know that my idiot son is aware of my Grandfather's presence… and I have a safe assumption that you have informed the older Korean street trash."

Fingernails dug into her gloves, "Your 'idiot son's name is _Jin Kazama, _and the 'older Korean street trash's name is _Hwoarang_."

"Names mean nothing. They are useless titles, and their only purpose is to distinguish one being from another… In this case, a _monster_ and a _fool_."

The 20-year-old's head snapped up in frustration. She was itching to throw her fist into his jaw and then walk out, but refrained from doing so, "If you're going to insult the two men I deeply care for, then you will lose _your_ _only _ally."

A young, petite Japanese waitress came by the table, and gently placed a coffee cup on the table, smiled sweetly, and then sauntered off. Kazuya quirked an eyebrow, which raised high above the tops of his sunglasses, before leaning back, taking the handle, and speaking before sipping peacefully, "Took them long enough…"

Razer leant back from her chair and looked down at her knees, furrowing her eyebrows. Her head felt light, and she started to feel a little dizzy, though she was sitting down. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her speeding breath, trying to relax her mind, and started to push the rising anger down. She didn't need the anger here. It was useless, and served no purpose in this situation. It was a defunct emotion that needed to be shut down, and now.

Her right hand found its way to her left forearm, and slowly, she dragged the nails down it, not trying to cut, merely relieve the itch. As always, it failed. She could feel the corrupt angel crawling around menacingly, still trying to throw anger into every crevasse of her being, speaking firmly, You're going to let this man insult your precious monster, and your precious fool?

_You. Shut up. Now. You have no place mocking them either._

"Are you sure you do not want anything?" Kazuya pressed quietly.

She opened her eyes and found the dizziness had disappeared. Behind the shades, the Greek youth swore she could almost see care in his eyes. The more she thought about it, she was _a little _thirsty… With a quiet and defeated sigh, she looked to her left and out a Café Macron window, watching people walk around behind the yellow lettering, "Just a glass of lemonade, please."

The Japanese man called over a male waiter, placed in Storm Wind's order, before turning his attention back to his acquaintance once the waiter left, "Honestly… Tell me Razer, what in the world do you see in either of them? Why do you love them?"

She looked back to the 49-year-old, green eyes widened a little, realising that he had just called her by her first name for the first time, as though he actually trusted her. Her response was soft and silent, as though afraid to answer, "What business is it of yours…?"

"Innocent curiosity," He drawled.

Anger flared again. She turned to face him wholly, and did not spare the newly found volume in her voice, "Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, Kazuya? From the first time we ever met in the previous Tournament, you have been nothing but a nuisance! You are like a little fly, buzzing around me to annoy me, and only to get what you want! You've called me a _monster, _like the little _hypocrite _you are, for you too feel what crawls beneath our skin… You've called me a _bitch, _a _whore, _and many other names I am sure you have not said to my face; and you turn around to me at the start of _this _Tournament and say that you 'care' about my well being?! You sure have a funny way of fucking showing it! If you 'cared', you would not have called me such names in the first place, you would not insult the people I love, you would not harm Hwoarang to the extents that you have…

"And now, you approach me for _your _gain! I am not your instrument! If you want something to be done, do it yourself, because I will _not _go in your stead! Go fight your beloved Grandfather, storm the final match for all I care, but your harassment ends _here. F_rom here on in, _you will leave _my _friends, _the _very little family _I have, and _me,_ _alone!!_"

"Foolish child! Do you not understand?!" He bellowed back, the handle of the cup having broken under his grip.

The booming strength of his voice sent the whole café, and the girl opposite him, dead quiet. The waiter had returned with Razer's lemonade, and was now standing beside the table idly, unsure of whether to place the order on the table, or simply turn around and leave. He furrowed his black eyebrows, the shock off the shouting wearing down.

'_I _can't_ do it. You have to. And not for me… for everybody,' _He stated within her mind.

The 49-year-old opened his wallet, grabbed the money from it, and slammed it on the table. He stood up and took the glass from the waiter's hand, shoved it into one of Razer's, and grabbed her right forearm tightly, dragging her up. He mentally told her to come with him, whilst verbally he spoke to the waiter as they left, "That will pay for the damages, the drinks, and a new glass, seeing as we are removing this one from the premises."

The pair exited Café Macron quietly, and left the Mall completely. The Japanese man took a right and was soon out of the region completely, now in a peaceful and quiet area. He eventually released the woman's forearm. Athane sipped her drink, and immediately recognised this place to be where the chase for Jin had ended. There were small groupings of snow atop the short grass, due to the recent snow showers. It was at times like this that she somewhat missed the Blood Talon's constant company, and whatever may have come with it. If he was here now, well, it was most likely he would've thrown a snowball at her and annoyed her.

_I cannot _believe _I just acknowledged that I missed the snowball fights._

You are amusing, mortal. Why not start one with Kazuya, hmm?

_Don't even _joke _about that_.

The topic in question spoke up once more. They were now standing in the middle of an isolated pathway, staring straight ahead, "Life is hard and complicated. It may seem simple, like the pathway we are now standing on. Life may seem straight forward, but as you and I both know, it is full of tricky twists and turns. As humans… as _beings, _no matter what we may be, we are required to follow down this road… whether it goes over a hill or into a valley.

"Everyone experiences pain, in every form. Physical, mental, emotional… Everyone. All we can do is pursue onward. All we can do is survive. All we can do is bear the scars that they give us, and wear them as memories. We take the hit, and move on. We let the wound heal until we feel it no more, or at least not as severely, so we are not practically immobilised by it. We _learn._

"You receive a punch to the face. It hurts. Next time, you know to block it, or dodge it. You are taunted from either internal or external beings. It hurts. Next time, you ignore it, because you know it is not true. Your heart stings, as though it has been stabbed. It hurts… Next time, you strengthen the walls, and keep those you love, those who can protect you, close to you. Do not let them wither away from your memory… because in the end… a memory is all we will have…"

'_Jun,' _She responded quietly.

Kazuya nodded sadly, now looking down at his black shoes, seeing the tips of his dark blue pants graze them, "Tell me, Razer, how many of these aches have you felt? You felt Heihachi's attacks, both times, and you moved on from them. The corrupt angel throws insults at you, and you ignore them. You broke your own heart, by two different methods, two _completely different _men… and you are still trying to repair yourself. You are still trying to decide which of these two you give _the whole _of your heart to… Whether it is to your angel, Hwoarang… or to his lonely rival, Jin. Yet, there is something else beneath all that that is taking its toll on you.

"I don't expect you to tell me, and frankly, I don't want you to. It is your personal scar to bear, and you can choose to either cover it up and silently say, once the time has come, 'I have overcome this'; or you can show it off to the world and hold it up in the air proudly. For such a long period of time, you have run away from it. I wonder, have you faced it?"

The 20-year-old's face remained blank, trying to remain unreadable, though she felt the emotions within, "Yes…"

"Accept what has happened, Razer, and let it go. It is holding you down, whatever it may be. You say that you have done it, though I can see it in your eyes, right now, as I look at them from the corner of my own eyes, that the nightmares still haunt you. The shadow still hangs over you, and you _fear _it, because you still cannot believe it has happened to you. What has happened has happened, and it is now in the past. Let it become a mere memory. Accept it, and move on."

That is the key to absolution, The being remarked, quoting herself from a few weeks ago.

"But I have…" She whispered, some white spots now appearing in her vision. It was starting to snow again.

"The lost little girl I see standing beside me is still hiding in her shell. She still cowers from whatever happened all those years ago, and has confided in one, perhaps two people that are around her. She still walks through life as though it is a straight path, like this one right here, though she knows it shouldn't be that way.

"So she coasts through life with a friend, holding onto him where necessary, and allow him to hold onto her where necessary. They experienced the dizzying highs and the terrifying lows, _together. _Both love each other dearly, in every way, but were petrified to admit it to the other. She found another man she loved just as much, and finds difficulty in balancing the care between the two of them, and in keeping her own personal nightmares and demons at bay.

"She now finds herself at a point in time that not even she understands. How can she, a simple woman, cursed with something far greater, help destroy a great evil in the world? She does not feel worthy to help. In her mind, she is no better than the opponent she will one day face… She doesn't know what she means to other people, let alone what she can do to help the world. A strong wind, now died down to a gentle breeze.

"She has come to a turn on the pavement, and is puzzled to find snow before her. Pure, white snow. The very colour itself is a sign of purity and rebirth… like her wings _should_ be. She wonders where the pathway has gone, and as she stares around, she sees where it has gone… She is afraid to make the turn."

Athane looked to Kazuya and furrowed her eyebrows. Her eyes were watery, "How do I turn…?"

"Release."


	33. Unexpected Circumstances

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Thirty-Three: Unexpected Circumstances**_

Even _I _told you this… Do you remember when you were at the gym in Greece, and the advertisement for the 5th Tournament came up on the television? It was then such words fell from my mouth. I can remember my words quite clearly. 'You have not released the past. That is the key to absolution'. Did you have to wait for a 49-year-old man, whose soul is tainted by the true devil, to tell you this very same fact I told you of?

_But how to I let it go? All my life I have been trying to forget… and you now expect me to remember and go 'oh okay, my Dad was an asshole, we'll leave it at that'? _Athane answered back with a frustrated tone. She scratched her stomach, the hand thereafter returning to the end of her hair, where she played with it nervously, and sighed feebly.

You have to find that out for yourself. You will come across it eventually, do not worry. Tell me, do you remember how you got over other things, such as when Baek 'died'? The corrupt angel inquired, actually trying to… help. Unfortunately, the pure gene strand was somewhat gnawing away at the rest of the gene, turning her into everything she wasn't… Slowly, but surely. The suggestion she had just given was showing this – that she was starting to become _helpful._

_I could not dwell on it. I had to be strong… for Hwo… because he was destroyed._

Then don't you think that you should 'not dwell' on the past anymore, because it is destroying _you?_

It was now Saturday, and it had been three days since her encounter with Kazuya. She had tried to think of something else, but she always ended up at the same question – how to 'let it go'? How to 'accept' it? It was so fresh in her mind, still, even after eight years… Perhaps that was because she _let _it stay that way. But it wasn't as though she _requested_ the memories…

A hand pried her own from her hair, and clutched it lightly. There was breath and a whisper by her ear, making her shiver, "Talk to me."

Razer stepped aside once more, her loose fist slipping from Hwoarang's hand. They were walking to his match, which was set at the Great Plains. It was around a fifteen minute walk from the hotel, and they decided to go early, together. It was her suggestion, hoping he would decline, though when he accepted, she was well aware of the onslaught of questions she was bound to receive, "This is something I would prefer to keep it to myself, as I am trying to… work it out on my own."

"You've fought by yourself long enough. How about you let your friends help you?"

"I do not think you or the others can help me in this situation," She replied politely, shivering for a second time.

He was back to his normal self again, harassing her, being annoying, being caring… the normal stuff. He was released from hospital two days back, and 'not a moment too fucking soon'. For those days between matches, he had surprisingly been extremely careful with his ribs. Now though, he was walking in front of her, but backwards, trying to assess her current feelings whilst clicking his tongue.

"Please close your mouth."

"Make me," He replied with a grin, thereafter clicking his tongue once more.

Swiftly, her hand shot out and smacked him up the back of the head. She laughed a little as he recoiled, his shoulders rising, and his eyes squeezing together. When he relaxed again, both of Athane's hands were behind her back like his were, "I have made you stop. So there. Take that, dork."

"I'm insulted," He deadpanned, wincing a little when he walked over a pointy pebble with his bare foot.

The 20-year-old smiled at him, knowing that he was playing around with her, despite the serious expression he was wearing on his face. After all, they had agreed a long time ago that he was the 'great actor' and that she was the 'shitty liar'.

He couldn't hold the straight face for long, and when it broke, he moved to her right side swiftly. He grabbed her right hand and began swinging them both backwards and forwards childishly, "Then again, your insults and stuff, they're nothing new. You gotta learn to be original, Raze."

"'Miss Mediterranean' was original, Hwoarang?" She inquired, stepping a little closer towards him.

"Totally."

Fifteen minutes later, both found themselves at the designated area. It was a large, grassy plain, decorated with the occasional flower. If they looked further enough in the distance, they could see stone ruins of what appeared to be a rather large structure, such as a castle or church. Hopefully, the battle would not drag off to there.

Hwoarang let go of Razer's hand and jogged a few feet in front of her before stopping and looking around. His hands were firmly planted on the waist area of his dobuk, as he observed the area, his eyes passing the referee who was standing there, bored, "Hm… I guess my opponent chickened out or something."

"We are early, remember?"

Shrugging, he lazily stuck his middle finger up at her, before standing and crossing his arms childishly, hoping that his opponent would get here, and soon. He didn't want to wait forever just to find that they had forfeited, or that they were sick, or something just as stupid. It was quarter past twelve, and the match started at half past.

As those fifteen minutes ticked by, Seong-Hada and Miharu came, both of them holding up a still-wounded Xiaoyu by the waist. She still appeared to be rather upset from the events that transpired earlier in her match against Jin Kazama. The whole thing had shaken her up, big time, and the fact that no one had seen him since further upset her. She wanted to try and tell him that what happened wasn't her fault, and that she would be okay.

Sienna eyes squinted when two more people finally arrived, side by side. As their forms cleared, the 21-year-old identified Christie and Steve.

…Steve.

He strolled back over to Razer quickly with a light smirk on his face, "If I'm fighting Steve… guess who you get."

Her world froze, even as he touched her shoulder and sauntered back towards the referee. The corrupt angel within was simply laughing her head off once the facts arrived in her mind, though Seong-Hada next to her tapped her shoulder, and with innocence, verbally answered in a whisper, his eyes wide, "Youuuu fight Jin."

_W-what…? Oh God… _Well, that was unexpected.

You fight Kazama. You _finally _fight Kazama, _fairly, _one on one… a _proper _match where he cannot gang up on you with Ling like he did when you first met! More laughter. If the entity was visible, she would have jabbed her host, In order to secure a life for you and your two friends, in order to ensure that you still hold the home that your Mother inherited, you must defeat your ex-boyfriend. Simply _wonderful._

_No… _Her head lowered. What would the match be like?

"So, who am I up against, mate?" Steve asked the referee, rolling his shoulders in expectation.

Christie, who had moved to the crowd area, answered for him, "Hwoarang, stupid. Do you see Razer standing in front of you?"

"Exactly! Do you need glasses or something, Fox?" The Blood Talon inquired, slipping into stance.

"You'll be the one needing them by the end of this match," He countered friendlily, throwing a few warm up punches at blinding speed.

The referee stepped between them, one arm in the way, "I want a clean fight, got it? 7 v.s. 22. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"

The arm moved out of the way, and immediately, both parties unleashed a flurry of quick attacks, before staggering backwards. The Korean had thrown several kicks at his opponent, tripping him over in some instances, and in others wounding his arms. On the other hand, the boxing champion has given his opponent plenty of punches to worry about. One particular one slammed hard into his foe's firm thigh, and the only reason he noticed that it pained him was of the slight limp that began to occur with the coming attacks.

It did not, however, stop him from throwing a Nose Bleeder kick that smashed straight across the Brit's head. He staggered back once more, a hand to his face, and breathed in and out steadily. His icy blue eyes watched as his opponent simply bounced back and forth on his heels, as though he were toying with him.

Taking his hand away and spotting blood, he quickly moved into action as the Blood Talon ran back towards him. The boxer believed that he was trying to conduct a running kick. His predictions came true. Steve sidestepped, and just as he landed, he threw a right punch straight across his friend's face, grazing the cheek.

As a smirk appeared on the Korean's face, and Steve knew he was now in for a world of hurt.

Machine Gun Kicks soon arrived, and Fox was only hit by the first kick. He managed to block the other three, however a low, sweeping right kick soon caught him off guard. His balance shifted, and with another right kick to the chest, he was sent into the ground. Not the most wonderful place to be at the moment…

An axe kick smashed into his hip. Steve rolled out of the way before a second one could arrive, and stood to his feet once more. Another kick came his way. He watched as the Torpedo Kick clearly missed its mark due to his dodge, and watched as his fellow friend was almost thrown off balance by throwing so much force into the kick.

Before Hwoarang could turn around, he quickly conducted a Cyclone Punch, smashing his fist into his opponent's lower back firmly. As he fell down, the 21-year-old quickly followed it up with a few more odd punches, even taking a swipe at the Korean's calves. He moved away, now bobbing back and forth, awaiting his opponent's next strike.

He briefly turned his head to look at the crowd, and saw someone near the back he never expected. His blue eyes widened a little as surprised swarmed him. The woman who had surprised him smoothed out her red dress and femininely pointed back towards the Blood Talon, as though telling him to pay attention to the match.

The strikes fluently came. A Spinning Left Axe Kick broke his guard, and soon enough, an onslaught of small combinations damaged him. Total Outrage, Rejection, Teaser… most of them were there. Eventually, one solid, firm kick to his stomach sent the boxer backwards, clutching his stomach in pain. His insides felt as though they were twisting around.

Although he was still in pain, his friend did not let up on his attacks. Another low, left sweep came his way, followed by a right one. He did not get another strike in though, for Steve had finally gathered enough strength to stand on his feet and smash both his fists into his opponent – one on the way up, and another coming down once he was standing completely.

The rising attacks were unexpected, he assumed, by the look of 'what the hell' on Hwoarang's face. It did not take long for him to spring back into action, though, the white clothes of his dobuk moving around, along with his hair. He side stepped and span around in a small circle, flicking his right leg out behind him, managing to hook it around one of the Brit's, and pulled, the act causing unsteadiness on his feet.

An attack known as Bloody Guillotine thereafter arrived, having the Korean youth leap in the air and kick his foe with one of the two airborne legs. The attack was difficult to execute, and he vaguely heard Seong-Hada whistle in an impressed fashion.

Fox admitted silently that the move aesthetically pleasing, though that did not deter him from his coming attacks. Another axe kick came his way, but this time, it missed its target. Steve, who had avoided the attack, quickly grabbed the Blood Talon by the front of the shirt, and slammed his fist onto the top of his head, thereafter following through by throwing his form in the ground. A dirty tactic, but nonetheless, he employed it.

The 21-year-old stood unsteadily, a hand on the top of his head. With an unimpressed frown, he looked up to the Englishman and furrowed his eyebrows, inching over towards his still bobbing opponent, "That really, really, _really _hurt, y'know."

"And your kicks _don't_ hurt?" came the frustrated counter.

A light shrug arrived, followed by a Misdemeanour kick. The top of Hwoarang's foot collided with the back of Steve's head, and as a result of the impact, the boxer fell to the floor, growling in pain. He too now felt dizzy… An unexpected circumstance. It was bad enough he had to fight his friend.

"On a scale of one to ten," The Blood Talon began teasingly with a smirk, "exactly how much did that hurt?"

His answer was another fierce punch, which, however, was blocked. He smirked and answered it with another two, followed by a sharp, left kick. Steve staggered back and tried to breathe in and out steadily. He was really tired. The Korean opposite him was truly a handful in battle.

But being in this situation had him stop and think for a moment. What was he doing here? Revenge. But what about Hwoarang? A second chance. And in the end, his cause was worth much more than his own. He could blow up the research lab any time, any day. His friend needed this, and badly. Besides, what good would either of them do for their friends if they were injured?

Fox stood up straight and tall and put both his hands up, "I forfeit."

"Number 22 wins! Congratulations!" The referee announced bubbly.

It took a moment for the Blood Talon to register what had just occurred. He blinked several times, before dropping his guard and smiling at the coming fighter. A sturdy hand came out, along with another content smile amongst a bloodied and bruised face, "Well worth the injuries, ya numpty. Great job. A damn good work out."

He took it between both of his and shook it firmly, bowing gratefully, the unexpected circumstance brightening his day. He knew that the boxer wasn't exactly 'finished' in the battle, and by forfeiting, he had just ensured many, many things to occur. He was now in the final match, and would receive money from the Zaibatsu in either situation, whether he won or was the runner up. Razer's protection was now legally ensured for whenever Jinpachi interrupted the match… He, she, and Seong-Hada… Now…

His surrender had given the three of them a new life.

"Thank you so much," Hwoarang remarked honestly.

The 21-year-old waved his free hand dismissively as the handshake came to an end, "Don't worry about it."

The Korean was completely wrapped up in his joy. With a happy shout, he turned away from number 7 and ran towards the others. Christie, whilst a tad sad that Steve had lost, was very happy for him. Baek's eyes were closed, though the smile on his face suggested he was very proud. Xiaoyu and Seong-Hada were babbling on like idiots, saying stuff such as 'the match was awesome', 'congratulations' and 'you'd better train damn hard'. Razer was by their side, looking down at the ground, eyes closed, smiling uncontrollably, arms folded.

She wasn't the one running towards him, though, yelling 'you did it'. It was as though she was just frozen with shock and joy, and was trying to control her joy before it overloaded her. The unexpected circumstance could do that. It was Miharu who was running towards him, so proud, smiling as though she could never frown. Such an infectious smile got to him too, and when she leapt on him, hugging him tightly, overjoyed for his victory, he kissed her lips with a smile, hugging back.

Athane chose the wrong time to look up.

What did I tell you, mortal? He let you go.

Hurriedly, she looked away, ignoring the 'let's go out to dinner or something' that derived from one of them, and refocused on her attention to Steve. He walked by her and the others that came to watch, focused on one person. He was walking towards a woman who was smugly standing behind the main group, though smiling sweetly. The contrast of these two attitudes matched her personality, amongst other things, perfectly. The bone-breaking sweetheart, the emotional assassin, the femme fatale…

Anna Williams had come to watch her nephew fight.

"Hello," He remarked.

"Hi."

Silence.

"Maybe next time, sweetie," She remarked, trying to break up the quiet, referring to the fight.

He grinned, "Doesn't matter."

Unforeseen, unanticipated, unexpected.

The match against Steve, thereafter discovering that she would be up against Jin, the Brit's forfeit, that personal issue, Anna coming to watch her nephew fight… It was as though the entire day was planned by whatever deity above to be completely unexpected. And they had succeeded in that, so much to the point that Razer now worried a similar unexpected string may occur in her own match.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Hwoarang __v.s. Steve Fox: _Great Plains, Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection


	34. The Night

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Forgive any spelling errors from here on in, my spell checker died around here because there were too many errors ('Hwoarang', etc). I never thought I'd get to say this, _ever_, but this chapter's word count is _literally __**OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!! **_XDXDXDXD This bastard took two and a half weeks to do. I'm incredibly proud of it but it was very... frustrating to do. I knew what would happen but it was just hard to write about, etc. Ya know. This chapter has been described as:

_"Simply amazing, I could literally see it in my head, every movement, every attack, everything..." _by my Beta.

_"That was fucking epic."_ by my boyfriend.

_"...Well that just blew everything I've ever read out of the water." _by TeaC0sy (she conned me -.- lololol).

Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Four: The Night**_

High kick.

Mid kick.

Low kick.

Axe kick.

Roundhouse.

Change legs.

Repeat.

"Just kick a little harder," Baek said, moving his hand around with each strike that came.

Razer followed his encouragement, running through that simple drill a few more times. She didn't want to necessarily beat her teacher's hands to a pulp, so she still kept a little restraint, though he had basically asked her to give it all she had. Soon enough, he began to move around, and she had to follow him, attacking wherever his palm was, now with either foot.

A high kick she had launched was caught by the 48-year-old and thrown off. She span to her side, using the momentum enforced to turn and kick him in the stomach firmly. Satisfied, Baek took a step back and bowed respectively, smiling as she did the same, "Good work. You'll do fine when you go to your match tonight."

_Don't remind me… _She thought quietly, smiling on the outside to show her appreciation for his support.

It was clear to everybody that she was very nervous. She was fidgeting a lot more than usual, was very jumpy, and spoke a little less than normal. They had given her some space, thinking that maybe if she spent her time alone, mentally preparing herself, then perhaps she would be able to calm herself enough to walk into the match confidently.

As she returned to her room to shower and change, the corrupt angel within spoke constantly, confused, I do not see what the big problem is. You two have fought one another before. What is the difference now, aside from this previous match being in the streets of Seoul with Pigtails attacking by his side?

_Um, he is stronger and a better fighter now than he was two years ago? Is that not a suffice reason?_

And in turn, you have become stronger, faster and a better fighter. You will be able to match blow for blow.

_I hope so… _She murmured quietly, scrubbing her arm with soap furiously, biting her lip anxiously.

Why are you so apprehensive? It is only Jin. Put the small, petty facts aside, and pretend that he is a know-it-all teenager once more, sticking his nose in places it doesn't belong… and pummel him to your victory. Make him cower under the might of your attacks. Make him regret winning his last few matches.

An indescribable anger suddenly swarmed her, and she fought to keep it down, despite the next sentence that echoed through her mind. Her teeth gritted closely together as she stared at the white tiles before her, watching water slide down.

Make him lament the day he _ever _hurt you.

* * *

Six at night had never felt so strange to Hwoarang before. This was the time where he normally lazed about, irregardless of whether he was feeling lazy. It normally felt like a content, relaxing time of the day to him, no matter how old he was, where he was, or what he was doing. He always felt hungry around this time too.

But unlike every other time, practically every _other_ day_, _he felt very anxious.

He didn't like it.

Why did _he _have to feel anxious? _He _wasn't the one fighting Kazama… He was just watching his best friend fight him instead. The only reason that he had come up with was because of a possibility of entity clashes. The fact that the Japanese man had disappeared after his battle against Xiao made him wonder if he had any control over the devil within. And to make things worse, the 20-year-old herself was slowly on the road to recovery. The fact that one was an angel (corrupted, but nonetheless) and the other was a devil just made matters worse.

He folded his arms across his chest, still firmly leaning against a stony wall with Miharu on his right side. She had one of his headphones on, and he had the other firmly lodged in. As he tapped his foot, waiting for his best friend and rival to arrive (and also in time with the music), he heard his girlfriend pipe up, "How the hell do you listen to this music?"

Sienna eyes flicked to her briefly before staring straight ahead of him once more, and at a stone statue of a gargoyle. A smirk arrived on his features as he answered her, "Like this…" He then started to head bang happily, hearing her laugh.

He stopped, per her request, her voice still laced with giggles, "But it's all screaming!"

"Atreyu's not _all _screaming…" He replied, referring to the chorus of 'Her Portrait In Black', the song they were currently listening to. The grin was still set deep in his face as he turned his head to look at her, "Besides, I'm not the only one that listens to this type of stuff, and this isn't all I listen to. Anything with a guitar in it and I'm sold."

She sighed with a smile, "Typical boys with their guitars…"

"Let's not forget motorbikes," He added cheerily, looking back at the entrance, arms now behind his head.

Someone did come through, but it was not the person he was hoping for. The merry laughter that was bouncing between the stone walls, along with dark blue hair and black hair, indicated to him that it was Seong-Hada and Xiaoyu. He was telling her jokes again, and she was responding to them quite nicely, though at some points, her laughter was more like a hacking cackle. He himself would've called it embarrassing, but the 21-year-old noticed that his younger male friend didn't mind.

"Hey guys!" SH called, referring to Hwoarang, Miharu, Baek, Julia, Steve and Christie, who were already there. Lei was busy doing police work.

They all waved before returning to whatever they were doing. The young Korean and the Chinese fighter walked towards their friends, still talking between themselves animatedly. The current topic appeared to be about milkshake flavours. It seemed they disagreed on which flavour tasted better – chocolate or strawberry.

The Blood Talon pulled out his phone, checking it for any messages from Razer, before silently sighing and slipping it back in his pocket. He hoped she'd arrive soon, he'd hate to see her disqualified. Then again her opponent was no where in sight either, so perhaps the match would be rescheduled entirely.

As the song changed to Papa Roach's '…To Be Loved', he surveyed the area once more. They were in a cathedral, and within it were traces of snow. The snow itself had probably seeped in from the open windows, or something. The atmosphere itself was slightly colder than normal. The candles weren't helping the current situation, he guessed.

His head snapped back towards the entrance where he heard a familiar frustrated sigh. Athane had finally entered, not hearing the referee nearby growling 'about time someone showed up'. He could tell by the way that she was standing and moving around that she was very nervous. Every step she took into the arena was small, like a baby step. He squinted to notice her breath escape her lips in tiny, quick puffs, only visible because of the cold environment.

Taking his headphone bud out and leaving Miharu with his music, he jogged over towards her, stopping just to her right, "Hi."

"You came all the way over here just to greet me?"

A cocky grin, "Is there a problem with that?"

She lightly shook her head before inching forward a few more steps, now standing on a dark red rug. She rubbed her arm apprehensively, the black sleeve of her favourite jacket moving up and down along with it. She decided to try and follow the entity's advice, and pretend that this was the first time she had fought Jin, only this time he was not assisted by Ling. To follow close to this, she had chosen the clothes she was wearing that night to fight him in.

Hwoarang stood before Razer and leant back, hands deep in his pockets, attempting to analyse the depth of her current nervousness. She looked around for a moment longer before resting her gaze upon him, arms now behind her back. She felt her lips curve upwards at the sides, into a smile, and tilted her head to the side a little.

He took a step closer towards her and leant forward to whisper in her ear, "Relax."

"You are always telling me to do that."

"I wonder when you'll start listening," He drawled with a lazy smirk.

She shrugged and broke the little staring competition to survey the current situation over his shoulder. She found no Asuka, and no Jin himself. Her eyes scanned those who had come, and found Miharu taking sneaking glances at them every so often. At one point, she saw her biting her lip worriedly, chewing at the skin, hoping for it to just tear open.

"What're we gonna do if you win?" She heard the Blood Talon ask quietly.

"I have no idea. Perhaps we should treat it as a sparring match?"

"But… Jinpachi…"

"Perhaps I should tarnish your pride and have you surrender, so I can face him alone?"

He leant back again, letting out a long 'hmm' as to prolong his decision. He already knew the answer, and he knew that she knew too, but decided to have fun with her anyhow. After 'careful' deliberation, he delivered his verdict, coming right up to her face mischievously, word rolling off his tongue in a very carefree manner, "Nnnnnnno."

A light shove had him sway off balance slightly. Their joking settled when silence took the reigns of the conversation. Athane leant closer towards him and rested her cheek against his right shoulder, her green eyes still on the lookout for her opponent at the entrance. One of her loosely closed fists came to rest under her chin as a sigh escaped through slightly parted lips, along with three tiny words whispered to him, and only him, "I am scared."

"You shouldn't be."

"But I am. So many things could go wrong here…"

"Don't let it get to you. Just pretend it's someone else, yeah?"

Tch, that in itself was even harder than pretending that it was the first night they had met in the alleys of Seoul. His hair was the same, she knew that. She knew that he had his red gloves on, and that he was only a little shorter than he was now. She knew that he was two years younger, and that - …Wait, what was he wearing that night?

Footsteps soon approached. There was the soft ones of a girl, and the heavy ones of a boy. Two familiar scents wafted in, one she had not known for two long, and one that she had known for a very, very long time. Her form stiffened.

The Devil's Child has arrived.

The Korean noticed her freeze, and slid his hand to her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. She looked at his hand for a moment, placing her own over it, before turning her head to look up at him, seeing his sienna eyes stare down on her. The 'look' in his eyes was there once more, "Good luck, my angel. Don't let him get to you. Whatever happens today… you'll be fine."

She could feel the two who had just entered look at them briefly. Razer looked down at her shoes and tightened her grip on his hand. She couldn't help but inwardly chuckle when she felt him smile. Hwoarang was right next to her after all, his cheek lightly pressed against hers, only adding the pressure when that infamous grin was bestowed upon his features.

The pressure soon left, being replaced with something softer and warmer. It was a few moments later did the kiss leave her cheek, being replaced with something far more meaningful in the form of soft, tender words – and the little whisper in itself managed to calm those flaring and wavering nerves, "I love you."

With renewed courage, the 20-year-old echoed his footsteps, only going in the opposite direction. The steps soon slowed, and she found herself now standing before Jin Kazama, seeing a multitude of emotions swarm through his dark brown eyes. He nodded slightly before slipping into stance, silently beckoning her to do the same. They both wanted this to be over quickly, and whoever was victorious was… well, the better fighter.

Soon, many things began to run through her own mind as well. It had been two years? That was all? It felt like so much longer to her… And they had been through so much together, for all of it to now come down to this instant in time. This one, important, possibly life-changing decision in time. Soon enough, the fear began to creep back in as she subconsciously listed their commonalities. What had she gotten herself into…?

Fellow fighter. Fellow friend. Fellow tormented soul.

Make him…

Fellow contestant to her heart.

…lament…

The challenger.

…the day…

"Number 22 v.s. number 15. 3, 2, 1…"

…he _ever _hurt you!!

"Fight!"

Driven by her own sense of pain, Razer lashed out first with a Cheap Snap Shot Kick, carefully rearing her left leg back before driving it into that muscled torso. The Japanese man faltered for a brief moment before countering with Savage Sword. The first two hand strikes were blocked, bit the kick had hit its mark, sending a limping fighter back a fair few feet.

Sidestepping a front kick and ducking under his Double Chamber Punch attack, Athane kicked him hard in the shin with her left leg, repeating the action with her right, though this time tripping him up. Using this to her advantage, she grabbed his forearm, briefly looked at him apologetically when he looked back, and conducted Falcon Dice Kick, wincing as her heel went slamming into his neck.

So brutal… The corrupt angel murmured, pleased.

_I am _not _like you! _She growled angrily, jumping over a sweeping kick, only to be met with a fist to the jaw. She staggered back, cradling the injury with her dominant left hand, and took a swipe at him as well, though with the other hand. It didn't hit him in the head as she had hoped, but rather at the chest – pretty laughable, as it probably didn't hurt him at all.

The Greek pulled away from two coming punches and a left axe kick. She attacked back with a right axe kick, smirking a little as it came crashing down on his shoulder. She went back into Left Stance, hand now away from her jaw, and spoke to him teasingly, yet friendlily, _'That's how it's done _properly, _Jin.'_

He ignored her teasingly friendly remark, and for a moment she wondered if the message had even gotten through. The hand that had graced his left shoulder, which was bare, left after a moment, as though the pain inflicted by her strike had finally settled. He returned to his normal stance, before his ex-girlfriend could land an attack again, and hurriedly kicked her lower leg with as much force as he could summon. Perhaps if he weakened her legs, the 20-year-old wouldn't be able to attack or stand, and would forfeit the match.

It was hard enough restraining the devil within from taking control, which he was being rather persistent at today. Ever since his fight against Xiaoyu, who he had noticed here, the taunts were fierce and constant. Disoriented in his despair, he had left the general area and had suffered multiple transformations. Fortunately no one was harmed, hence his reason for isolating himself. The wounds were still present on his body.

What wounds? This is perfection.

The dry blood was beginning to crack.

Weak, pathetic, _insignificant _mortal.

He dodged a kick that would've struck him at his temple. He fell backwards after failing to stabilise himself, and held his head in his hands. He didn't notice Razer furrowing her eyebrows questioningly, and her stance drop. She watched as he made an attempt to stand again, only to fall to his knees. Kazama's hand never left his head, even as short, painful gasps trickled from his shaking lips.

A large lump appeared in Athane's throat. She ran over to him and dropped to her own knees, grabbing him by the shoulders. It was becoming horridly apparent to her that he was being dragged into perfect insanity. She shook him lightly and spoke in a hushed voice, like he did when they first civilly met, "Jin, look at me… You can fight him off. You can ignore him. Just look at me. Please…"

He did, but it was not the full chocolate brown eyes she adored.

Partially red eyes stared up at her, and with one swift movement, she was thrown backwards. Quickly scrambling for her hands and knees, she called out to him once more, though it was unheard. The arm that had thrown her away began to shake, as did the rest of his body. He tried to fight the devil within off one last time, _Stop this!_

Fool.

"N-no!" He choked out, shaking in horror as it morphed into a growl, both hands at his head now.

"Jin! Fight it!" The Greek yelled desperately, now on her own two feet, her hands lightly clenched, "C'mon!"

The 21-year-old man began to laugh, though it was not his own. It was too dark to be his. He had fought and fought and fought against the chaos within, but wound up failing. The end result? For the first time, those who he cared about, his friends, would see the monster within. They would see the creature that caused him so much torment and pain.

Wind burst through the doors, windows and every other open area. Razer wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, knowing what was about to come, and further knowing that she had no choice but to stay and fight back… if only to get him back to normal, as opposed to her ordinary goal. But if she was to do either, she had to stay alive.

Jin verbally shouted in pain, but mentally spoke to her before undergoing his transformation, _'I'm sorry.'_

With that said and done, wings, horns and claws tore from his body, trying to be as painful as possible in doing so. The marks that were practically identical to hers appeared, as well as the same blood red jewel in the middle of his forehead. For once, Athane didn't get to feel what happened to her too… She got to see it first hand.

As such things occurred, Xiaoyu left Miharu's side with the intent of running over to him. Tears were welling in her eyes as she recalled what Yoshimitsu told her all that time ago. This was why he kept himself away from everybody, and this is what caused him to be so distant. It was the source of his pain, and hers too. She began to run towards him, calling out his name in the hopes of stopping this before it go to far, before she felt a hand roughly enclose around her bare, thin upper arm.

She looked over her shoulder through her brown eyes, past the shimmering pink of her clothes, to see Hwoarang looking at her sadly. He pulled her towards him, letting go of her arm, and held her shivering figure against his steadier form. Caging her in his arms, he bent his head to whisper in her ear, "There's nothing you can do."

A sob tried to claw its way out of her throat, "But… Look at him… Why can't we do anything? Why can't we _try_?!"

"Don't be an idiot, Pigtails. Kazama over there is no longer human. He'll kill you in two seconds flat."

Razer felt her heart sting. She wondered if the Blood Talon had ever seen _her _in such a manner.

"The only thing you can do is be there for him when he changes back, alright?"

The Chinese girl looked up at him for a moment, "B-but…"

"Please trust me, just this once," He pleaded quietly, watching as the Japanese youth before him finished his transformation with his wings stretching out. When the 18-year-old looked back, he tightened his hold. This was something that she didn't need to see, and he understood the shock of it once it is seen for the first time.

Breaths were held across the room, as for the first time (around the people who cared about his host), Devil Jin freely stood on his own two feet. He stood straight and tall with perfect posture, clenching and unclenching his hands, breathing in the fear that was currently shown throughout the room. His cruel red eyes passed over every individual in the room, managing to capture their current emotion with a simple stare.

Starting at the back of the room, he eyed Asuka, whose head was hung low and felt saddened by what had just occurred. Then came Baek Doo San, who currently was confused as hell, and worried about his student. Beside him was Julia, who was in the same state of mind. Steve was next, who had a better understanding of what was going on, but was wondering as to why Jin too suffered from such a thing. He must've known about Storm Wind's 'problem' as well. Interesting. Christie beside him was unquestioningly afraid, surveying the form of her 'friend' closely, now understanding how the blood that was there previously had appeared.

Seong-Hada's eyebrows were furrowed, and he was feeling a little scared too. He too had a better understanding of what this before him was, but like Steve, was wondering why Jin was suffering from it. Again, curious. Miharu was shocked more than anything, and it appeared that she had realised why he had kept to himself for all these years. Ling was trembling, and there were too many emotions to decipher. The main one was sadness. Hwoarang himself was very understanding in regards to the current situation, as he had known about this. The main emotion that was playing through his system at the moment was fear for his best friend.

As for Razer herself, she was frightened, and she knew that he knew. With a cruel smile, he took a few steps forward, slightly surprised when she did not move back. Raising his arms to shoulder height, he spoke, his words echoing between the walls of the cold cathedral, bouncing back and forth like a ball, We meet at last, woman.

Her green eyes narrowed as her fists clenched. She did not respond to him.

Devil Jin chuckled slightly, stopping his advance, now about three feet away from her. He waved his fingers, trying to coax her towards him and spoke yet again, after a long pause, after she did not come towards him, You willingly embrace my host, yet you refuse to come towards me and greet me in the same manner, though I am _the true _Jin Kazama. How amusing.

"You are _not _Jin," Razer growled through gritted teeth.

His arms fell to his sides. He raised his head a little and tilted it to the left, Do not delude yourself.

Her emotions got the best of her. She pointed her left index finger at her opponent, eyes narrowing further, "You are _not _Jin Kazama. Jin Kazama is a sweet, kind, loving and caring man. _You _are nothing but a manipulative and malicious parasite who feeds despair to someone who doesn't deserve it!"

Flesh tore, and along with it came a guttural hiss. The 20-year-old hurriedly looked back at her opponent, a palm placed over her bleeding cheek, where Devil Jin had happily struck her. The sting of the claws remained as blood started to freely run down the open wound, down her cheek, past her hand. She narrowed her eyes and took another shaky step back.

Jin Kazama is whom you see before you, He chortled, moving to close the gap between them.

His hand darted out once more, seizing the slim wrist of the Greek youth. He squeezed it as tightly as he could, chuckling at the feeble attempts to pry it free. He sensed a coming kick, but before she could execute it, he threw her into the ground by her wrist, a melancholy smirk bestowed upon his features.

He _always_ was.

Athane shot straight up, kicking him squarely in the stomach. Her opponent took a few steps back, cradling the injury with one arm. The other one tightened into a ready fist, which she noticed. Hurriedly, she struck out again, the top of her foot striking his kidney region. This affected him like the previous strike, though when she changed legs and made an attempt to repeat the action on the opposite side, the fist slammed into her thigh, sending her off balance once more, and sending pain up and down her leg.

The man you care about is an illusion. A guise, Devil Jin drawled, edging her anger onward, walking towards the youth with two free hands. She moved to roll out of the way, though the large, strong kick that came didn't miss her. It collided with her shoulder, ironically the same shoulder that the entity's host had dislocated on their first meeting. He squatted to his knees and picked her up by the hood of her jacket, red eyes narrowed and full of pessimism, He is nothing more than my meaningless _puppet_.

A knee greeted him in the chin. With a frustrated growl, the dark entity's head tilted back, chin pointing upward, and dropped his opponent, but not without harming her too, with yet another sharp kick to the stomach.

Razer furrowed her eyebrows and started to breathe, _Don't give in don't give in don'tgiveindon'tgivein._

Give in to the anger, woman, Came his demonic growl, watching as she stood wobbly on her feet. She rid herself of her jacket, tossing it far behind her. The fact that it was sliding down her shoulder during this match frustrated her. Irregardless, she didn't have the chance to stand up wholly, for he had back handed her yet again. The studs of his gloves met with the already wounded cheek, inflicting more pain, _You know _he is just my puppet… Just. Like. _You_.

Her dam to her anger finally collapsed, and the fury came out in a wave. The 20-year-old grabbed Devil Jin by the throat, and used all of her strength to toss him to the side. He went like a rag doll, unwillingly, though the dark coughing laughter that soon consumed the inside of the cathedral told a different story. Judging by the red eyes that were rapidly forming, he had succeeded in his goal.

Storm Wind's hands quickly went to her head. She could feel the rage building up inside of her, begging for release, and tears of fear forming by her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and dug her fingernails into her temples harshly, feeling the skin lightly give way under the crescent moons, _Don't, please don't… Don't!_

The corrupt angel within simply smiled, My other half… He is here. I must be reunited with him. I cannot miss this opportunity.

_You are not a devil! You are an evil angel! He is _not _your other half!_

What is an evil angel, if not a pure devil?

The phantom hand then came, along with a painful hiss, originating from the host. She could feel it constricting, the grip becoming tighter and tighter and tighter, until she so sure that she couldn't breathe. Weakened by the lack of oxygen, the Greek dropped to one knee, then the other, before taking one of her hands and placing it by her throat, as though trying to alleviate the current unseen pressure. Her form as a whole began to shake as she tried to curl up.

_Don't do this. _

I have dreamed of this for too long, She replied, now over the half way mark. The host was losing the battle. She continued to push, You cannot stop this, Razer Athane. I am far too strong for you. You are nothing but a weak, snivelling, pathetic, _lost little __girl_ with no hope for the future… You _always were!_

"Raze!"

Do you remember, all that time ago? How _lost _you were? You could not even raise your head for a good while… A pause before she continued to add fuel to the fire, And when you did, you looked into the eyes of a lonely little boy, who was so like you. The same little boy who is now panicking for your life. Did you not hear him call out to you? Or am I winning this tussle by more than I thought?

"Raze! Don't! Don't let it happen!"

She curled up more, her head just above her knees now. She could feel herself trying to claw away at her throat, at the grip that was mentally there, but physically didn't exist. Devil Jin's laughter continued to seep through her ears, as did his heavy footsteps. They were getting closer. She could feel his dark energy behind her. Not exactly behind her, but getting there.

"Please!"

Silence, street trash! The demonic entity growled, his head snapping towards the Blood Talon, red eyes glaring menacingly.

"Fuck you!" He shouted back, voice stronger now than in his earlier pleas. The girl in his arms pressed herself harder against him, and was still trembling. Ling was so confused, and couldn't believe that this was Jin. Miharu herself was standing right beside the two of them, so close that Hwoarang could almost feel her arm touch his.

"Hwo…"

His head snapped away from one person to the other. He bit his lip worryingly and shook his head at her, silently asking once more to not allow the entity inside to burst out… Because if it did, then there was a lot more than this battle at stake. Judging from the predominately red eyes, his pleas had failed.

"Mi ahn hae yo."

'I'm sorry'.

A sinister sneer sauntered onto the Japanese youth's face as he stopped before the woman, watching as his work went underway. His eyes were intently fixed on the transformation before him, watching with an ever widening smirk as fingernails extended into claws, as teeth grew into fangs, as patterns appeared on the fighter's body, and so on. His arms were firmly folded across his chest, and he tapped his foot, waiting for the finish of this spectacular sight.

At long last, her large wings arrived, though she was not wearing them proudly. They were quivering, and covered most of her form as she too shook. Devil Jin's smirk faded slightly, due to the host. He squatted down and looked at her curiously, like an observing cat, Welcome to the world, false one.

He strained his hearing to hear soft sobs. A scowl set deep in his face, the Japanese male stood to his full height, and nudged his opponent's shoulder with his shoe forcefully. The movement had her roll over so she was lying face up at him, and when he saw tears, his scowl grew dramatically. Razer was still in there. She hadn't completely faded away.

It was still the corrupt angel who responded, At last…

Rise, woman, Devil Jin growled, thereafter adding, Why do you weep?

She managed to comply, though she was a tad dizzy initially, She cries for what you have made her do, though for me… These tears are of joy, Devil, because I have waited so long to meet you like this. Now… now we are… complete. After our long years of searching, we are whole. We walk amongst these filthy mortals, alone, no longer.

He strolled over in a carefree manner and grabbed one of her horns, forcefully titling her head away so he could whisper in her ear. He spoke as clearly as he could in a hushed voice, carefully emphasising every word – every letter crafted down to the smallest, faultless detail, I may no longer be alone amongst filthy mortals…

He flung her head back, hearing a crack from the hurried act, and watched her fall back once more. She looked up at him, struggling to maintain an even breathing pattern, and stared hard into his red eyes. 'Devil' Razer's mouth was a firm, thin line, even as tears continued to well.

But _you _still are.

The instant of betrayal.

You… _promised_ me! The creature hissed, standing abruptly, pointing a claw at him, When I was born into this world, through this _monster… _You promised me that we would meet up, and that together we would make mankind fall to their knees. You promised an end to my loneliness!

You should know better than to believe the promises of the devil, _Angel._

His head span to the right, due to a harsh punch. With that move alone, the true fight began.

Ducking under another solid punch, Devil Jin slammed his left fist into his opponent's side. The impact forced the body to rise off the ground, but before it could go flying by another attack, wings worked. Red eyes narrowed as 'Devil' Razer flew up and back, daring him to follow, to take their battle to the sky.

He complied within a few moments, stretching his large wings before doing so. Now airborne, he watched as the other winged individual came back at him, a flurry of punches and kicks striking him. He blocked as many as he could, though was hit in some instances. One particular kick got a little too close to his head, though fortunately, he had moved out of the way. The kick had slid past his horns, injuring her instead. It had backfired.

A long, low growl bubbled up from the back of his throat. The 21-year-old slammed his tightly closed fist into the woman's jaw. The little, arid laugh that arrived was laced with glee as the youth lost balance in the air, and began to fall, despite her hazy attempts to stay in flight. It had obviously been a while since she had needed to fly.

Allow me to help you, Devil Jin drawled, ducking down towards her. He grabbed the Greek's forearm tightly, and could feel his nails cutting into the flesh. Once he had a firm grip on her arm, he hurled her upward, past his own form, and into the roof. The collision rang through the cathedral harshly, right down to the smallest detail. It was a sound he liked hearing, he decided rather quickly.

He felt his jaw muscles tighten when he noticed, once the dust had settled, that despite such an attack, she managed to keep herself airborne. Feathers began to flutter down to the ground, like petals, with the intent of joining the dispersed rock. They began to pool on the floor carelessly, strewn around in meaningless formation, in hollow patterns.

Without warning, the youth shot towards him, taking a hurried swipe. Devil Jin craftily moved out of the way and retorted with a few swipes of his own, one of them tearing one of the straps of her tank top. That particular assault left two deep gash wounds on her shoulder. The third claw did not manage to come in contact with her body, much to his displeasure. No matter.

They manoeuvred around one another in the air, attacking as often as possible. Two demons locked in combat, with nothing but anger and hatred for each other. One's reasoning was because his opponent was his worst enemy, though currently corrupt. The other's reasoning was due to the sting of recent betrayal. The freshly drawn cut in a previously delicate friendship. Barely even that.

Below them, the spectators remained perfectly still, like statues within the cold cathedral. If they held their breaths and didn't blink, every individual would've easily been mistaken for one. People frozen in time, simply standing there. A portion of a painting, cultivated to capture a part of the scene above.

The painting was smudged when Julia spoke up to those around her quietly, "This will not end well…"

Xiaoyu overheard her murmur and looked up to Hwoarang (whose gaze was solely fixed on the battle above them), who seemed to know the most about everything going on. She leant a little harder against him, but only a little, and spoke so only he could hear clearly every single letter that left her mouth, "Do you think she's right…?"

He did not answer her, for he didn't know. The only thing he knew was the dormant fear threatening to flare up within himself.

Everyone's attention was returned to the battle once they heard a loud collision and an agonising shout. Dust once again rose from the area in question, blanketing that corner of the cathedral in an eerie state. Devil Jin was hovering above it victoriously, his red eyes narrowed dangerously. A few seconds passed, and the dust was still thickly billowing carelessly. He took this opportunity to use the dust as cover, and flew into it, searching for his prey.

He found 'Devil' Razer lying on the ground, trying to breathe through tightly gritted teeth. She was lying on her stomach with one eye closed. Her body was bleeding and bruised, and one of her wings appeared to be bent at an unusual angle. He smiled at his handiwork, though in his opinion… it was still _wrong. _His masterpiece was incomplete.

He cringed in pain when the 20-year-old delivered a hard punch to his stomach, though the strike did not deter him from violently shoving her onto her back. The pure raw power from the attack itself was painful, but coupling that with the angle the wing was thereafter bent at resulted in a huge amount of pain. With that action said and done, he grabbed the wing in question, crushing it in his hand. A whimper of pain emerged from the victim.

Forcefully, the hybrid martial artist slid her right foot below the centre of his form, and started to push him off her, if only to alleviate the pain he was currently inflicting on her wing. The being above her was heavy, and proved difficult to move. Adding the left foot below his frame was difficult enough, though it was enough to throw Devil Jin off completely with one hard shove. The creature went back, through the dying dust, and was once again visible to all.

'Devil' Razer sat up and breathed in heavily, greedily gathering as much air as she possibly could. The inhalation of dust frustrated her, but she took it irregardless, if only go have a taste of that sweet, sweet oxygen. She sluggishly slid to her feet, though she was very unstable in the vertical position. Her head was in her hand, and it was pounding. Every pulsating thud echoed in her mind, like a sadistic storm. It was excruciating.

The dust had almost completely settled, and everyone could see the woman standing. She lifted her head and placed a hand to her throat, feeling suffocated. The corrupt angel came to the automatic assumption that it was due to the large inhalation of tainted air, though the more she thought about it, she could feel the true Razer clawing at her, trying to gain control. She inwardly laughed, though spoke aloud, You won't gain control again, mortal.

"Says you!" She managed to choke out.

That remark sparked hope in Hwoarang. His face brightened, and everyone noticed, "There you go! Keep trying!"

Wipe that smile off your face, Red, Came the angry response.

He considered giving her the finger, but opted against it, simply narrowing his eyes.

Devil Jin lumbered back towards his opponent, attacking with his Shoot The Works attack. They hit the mark, the direct centre of her shins, and caused her to stumble back. He sent another, stronger right kick her way, only to have it blocked. The impact was still incredibly painful, and was most probably strong enough to leave to large bruises.

A smirk appeared on his features as she attempted to strike back with her own flurry of kicks. First Machine Gun Kicks. Then Nose Bleeder. Then Fire Cracker and other nameless ones. Barely any of the attacks got through his defence, and this infuriated the 20-year-old. The Japanese demon simply continued to smirk, even as she tried alternate combinations.

How weak you are… He remarked. The statement was more to himself than to his opponent.

It was when she fell to one knee did he realise that his avowal show its truth depth. She was weak now, so weak, and judging by where her hand was, he was pretty sure that 'Devil' Razer was about to revert. It seemed that Athane had won her internal struggle, for now. Little did she know that to revert would lead to her death. His hand twitched in anticipation, eagerly awaiting what would soon endure.

Pieces of the corrupt angel disappeared, shrinking inward. There were no screams, no taunts, no challenges… nothing. Nothing but various inhalation and exhalation of breaths from all the people in the room. And fear. Beautiful, beautiful fear.

The demon strolled over, seeing his opponent still half curled up on her side, lying on the ground. She was conscious and alive, though completely motionless, as though the life had been taken out of her. Still smirking, he squatted down, levelling his face with hers, and looked at her, seeing the red in her irises almost completely fading away. The rims were lined with forming water, and her mouth was a hard and firm line.

He was surprised with a kick to the back of the head, which in turn sent him to the floor. Once the world stopped spinning around him, Devil Jin looked up and narrowed his eyes, seeing Razer standing a few feet away from him. Her hands were clenched as she looked down on him, and he could see the storm of emotions in her eyes, one of which was fear.

Fear? Ha.

Foolish child, He gritted out, pushing himself up with his arms, I will _teach_ you the _meaning_ of fear.

He conducted a rising kick. The attack had smashed into the youth's jaw, causing her eyes to close, giving him the perfect opportunity to continue his merciless strikes. To make sure he held control over her, he grabbed her by the hair, grinning all the while. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight, only causing more chills down every human's spine.

The sinister smirk only expanded when the realisation hit Razer. She had been placed in a submissive hold. Her teeth pressed harder and harder together as he pulled down, forcing her to look up. Her hand flailed out, blindly trying to punch him. She never managed to land a square hit, and soon enough, her hand was grabbed. The pressure that both of his hands were placing soon sky rocketed, to the point where the Greek was unsure of whether to try and break his grip on her hair, or on her other hand.

Deciding on the hand, for it was the most vulnerable, she attempted to pry her fingers below his, and loosen them. The attempt failed, though the idea behind it succeeded for the wrong reasons. With a mighty growl, Devil Jin tossed her into the wall behind him, her body falling into the corner. The whimper of misery did not go undetected.

She pushed herself off her stomach and onto her backside, resting herself against the stone walls. Leaf green eyes detected the approaching devil, and swallowed, hurriedly contemplating on what to do next. With effort, she stood and weaved to the side, avoiding a fierce Right Roundhouse Punch that would've otherwise easily caused a large amount of damage. The punch itself left a nice dint in the wall. The stone around it was cracking quickly.

A shaky exhale left her mouth. That could've been her head.

As Devil Jin turned her head to look at her, Athane bolted hurriedly, moving as fast as she could to the other side of the room. One thought was continuously drumming through her head, like a vital mantra for survival, _Don't get cornered, just don't get cornered and you'll live. Don't get cornered, don't get cornered, don't get cornered –_

"Duck!" Hwoarang shouted.

She did so and looked up just in time to see a red laser beam shoot over her head. She remained rooted to the spot below the paranormal attack, paralysed by petrification. There was no way in hell that she was going to win this, let alone get out of the ordeal without suffering. And to think that this all happened because of Jin's internal weakness. He was already fragile, ever since they met…

…And by doing what he thought was right, what _she now knew _was the right thing to do by everyone… she snapped at him, cut off all previous bonds from him… and activated the Gene to such an extent that his solitary purpose was to now slaughter her in cold blood before all.

It was going to end here tonight.

She felt a sickening crack occur in her back. Razer lurched forward in agony and whimpered, a hand shooting towards the source of the pain. She was on one knee, as though she had been shoved, and was looking over her shoulder to see her opponent grinning. A split second later, agony continued to occur on all fronts, as attack after attack ensued so quickly that she had no way of knowing what was going to hit where, and how hard.

It was going to end here tonight.

Her hand had long abandoned her feeble attempt to guard her back, and was attempting to fight back, though failing miserably. A solid kick to her side had made sure that she fell down, and a few blows afterward ensured that she _stay _down; even as she coughed up blood, even as her vision began to become fuzzy and hazy, even as she began to feel extremely light headed.

It was going to end here tonight.

Devil Jin grabbed her by the hood of her jacked and lifted her into the air. His red eyes connected with her green ones, sending shivers of shock and fear through her bleeding body, and causing every alarm in her head to ring erratically, You stupid, stupid woman… Observe what your foolishness has cost you.

"Kazama…"

The Greek's eyes slowly fluttered closed. The world around her faded to black.

Give in to the night, He growled lowly as the last remnants of her consciousness dulled into oblivion.

"Kazama!"

His left hand drew back, claws pointed and ready.

"_Kazama!_"

The 21-year-old looked hard at the unconscious form of the woman before him. He felt as though he were holding a dog by the scruff of its neck. He could feel the tingling rush of joy running through him. He was about to kill her. At long last, the woman who had caused him and so many others so much pain was about to be eradicated. For good. Where her Father failed, _he _would _succeed._

"You prick!"

The voice broke slightly.

"You _promised_!"

Devil Jin faded out for a moment, wiggling his fingers in wanton anticipation. Those two simple words seemed to have stirred the true Jin inside, though not enough to overthrow the devil within as of yet. He tilted his head towards the left slightly to hear the man known as the Blood Talon better, for he knew there was more to come out of that filthy, filthy mouth.

"You fucking promised me, _and yourself, _that you'd keep him away from her! And look at you now!"

Eyes darted back to the youth who was dangling from his hand.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! You prick! You _fucking_ _prick! _Drop her!"

_What's going on…? _Jin asked groggily within his own mind, desperately trying to open his eyes, or look through the eyes of the devil. He could only hear Hwoarang shouting at him and Devil laughing at him. If he strained his hearing to listen, he swore he could hear his Mother too, trying to coax him to open his eyes.

"For God's sake, drop her!"

"Jin!" Xiaoyu yelled out, shaking within the Korean's trembling arms, "Don't kill her!"

_Kill…?_

For a split moment, he was able to see, and what he saw had him jump and shake with a thousand nameless emotions. In his hand above him was a girl. A woman. Someone he indeed cared about. She was bleeding so, so much. She was wounded. She was unconscious. And it was all because of his lapse in mental strength…

…_He_ caused this.

What have you done, mortal? Devil Jin asked out loud. His voice was laced with a sneer.

Kazama's emotions swirled within him, like a massive surge. It was with that surge did Devil's downfall commence, first with the release of the Greek youth. He stumbled back a fair few feet, brown eyes invading the red, and held his head in his hands, shaking as though he were cold, _My nightmare… My nightmare, my nightmare… _

He did not hear the referee declare him the winner of this match, nor hear him call up for paramedics immediately. It was only after everything devilish (aside from the tattoo that was forever branded on his left upper arm) disappeared was he aware of everything around him, even the blurriness of his vision. Still, despite such vision, he slowly walked back over to the motionless body of Razer Athane, trying to steady his breathing.

As he got down on one knee beside her and moved to touch her, he shook his head in anguish, _I… I…_

He was suddenly shoved back hurriedly and violently. Such an action was painful, particularly for his own fresh wounds, whether it was from the battle or from losing his mental struggle originally. Jin hurriedly sat back up, and through chocolate brown eyes, saw the origin of his little tumble.

Irregardless, he tried to move towards her again, but was swiftly met with Hwoarang's highly distraught voice, "Get the fuck away from her!"

Jin did as he requested, knowing that to question it was stupidity. He couldn't keep the tears inside though, and cried whilst watching the Korean try to tend to his best friend as quickly as possible. He felt many pairs of eyes on him, and a few derivative glances occasionally cast elsewhere, such as the door. What added to the sadness within him was the confusion brewing within the church. Very, very, very few people knew of the devil within him. Why did he have to come out now…? Why did all these people have to be here…?

The Blood Talon moved brown hair away from the side of the Greek's face and hurriedly observed the usual head wounds. There was still blood trickling down her face. Biting his lip, he lifted her up to an almost-sitting position with one arm, and used the other to peel back the back of her shirt. The wing wounds were also bleeding profusely. Her hands were too, as well as the other injuries inflicted on her by his rival.

He let go of her shirt and quickly went to her throat, checking for a pulse. He waited and waited and waited, but when he felt nothing after such a long period of time except for the smallest of beats, it was then he began to panic even more so than ever. The smallest of things are the easiest to lose, "What the _fuck_ have you done, Kazama?!"

"I'm sorry…" He said, voice completely shattered, "I'm so sorry… I-I tried… But he… T-this wasn't supposed to ha -"

"Shut up! Just fucking _shut up!_" As though to further illustrate his point, he raised a hand.

Kazama furrowed his eyebrows questioningly, hiccuping. A deathly leer was sent his way as a consequence, and after a long period of time, the hand went down as though it were alright for he and everyone else within the cold cathedral to speak.

"Can you hear that?"

"Hear what…?"

"Can _anyone _hear that?!"

Silence.

"The voice!!" He exclaimed, panicking and edgy.

Seong-Hada looked to Baek and the others worryingly. They were all rooted to the spot, far too scared to approach the scene and see for themselves the condition of their friend. The 19-year-old bit his lip and scratched the back of his head, unsure as to what his gang leader meant. He could faintly hear the ambulance in the background, though there no voices. Just the wailing echoes of sirens approaching closer and closer to fulfil its set purpose.

Doo San took a few steps forward, but stopped in his tracks when sienna eyes glared at him, _daring _him to come closer. He cleared his throat, though his voice was still trembling with shock at the events that had just transpired before his aging eyes, "There is no voice, Hwoarang… No one has spoken since you silenced us."

His student looked away and back down at the woman in his arms. After a short pause, he looked back up to the Japanese martial artist opposite him, who was itching to get closer than he already was to see for himself if she was alright. He fiercely and angrily hissed, "She was right to be afraid of you today… _Monster._"

Forever. Alone.

Jin stood up and ran out abruptly, leaving the scene behind him. Snow began to softly touch his boiling skin, settling there. Its touch did little to cool and calm him, or to quell the two repetitive words flowing over and over through his mind, with thanks to the entity. A majority of his senses were shut down as well, but he could now smell Asuka running after him, concerned for the well being of his cousin.

He could hear the other male scream at him, though, "Fuck you, Kazama. _Fuck you!_"

_This wasn't supposed to happen… _Jin thought sadly, almost at the door.

"_You, _and _me. _Finals. Wherever the fuck they're held… You are _dead._ You hear me?! _Dead! Asshole!!_"

The 21-year-old was long gone into the night before the remainder of his sentence managed to finish. Hwoarang breathed in a sob, lifting the body higher, now holding her in two arms, pulling her as close to him as he was possibly able. He refused to relinquish his unyielding grip on her, even as the paramedics stormed inside and were being told what happened under the direction of Xiaoyu.

He felt nothing as the world moved around him, getting lost in the night.

* * *

**Stages:**

_Razer Athane v.s. __Jin Kazama__: _Cathedral (Tekken 5) x Winter Palace (Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection)


	35. Breath

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** lol hai gaiz. I can see you all really enjoyed that last chapter, and I'm glad you did. Thanks for the reviews, for reading and for your support. I don't say this often enough but I appreciate each and every comment, and if it weren't for you guys I wouldn't be where I am today in writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Oh, and one last thing. Jin's Epilogue is almost done! –_happy dance- _And once I've finished it and Hwoarang's, I can update this story a liiiiiittle faster :D Anyway, laters!

_**Chapter Thirty-Five: Breath**_

_The corrupt angel has placed her in a coma._

Hwoarang rested his head in his right hand. His thumb and middle fingers were perched on either side of his head, whilst his forefinger was idly touching nothing. He refused to take in the white scenery around him, though as he continued to stare down at the floor, he realised he couldn't escape it. There was no escaping where he was, who was beside him, what was wrong with the person and why the person remained unmoving two days after her match.

_She will not wake up until her body is repaired well enough to function properly._

The doctors stated that she was stable, though critical. What they didn't know was how long it would take for these wounds to heal. He guessed perhaps a few days if the corrupt angel within worked fast enough. There were a few times where he would look at Razer's body and see one less scab. Those small things in itself made his day. All he had to do was reassure himself that everything would work out… As long as she was breathing.

_I am doing everything I can to help speed up the process._

He had been staying in the chair for those last two days, refusing to budge. No blackmail, no order and no bait was successful in removing him from her room. The first day resulted in a barrage of questions from all of their friends, including Lei, who was absent at the match. He and Detective Burton had caught Asuka's Father's assailant, Feng Wei, hence his absence. Where he could not answer, Seong-Hada and Steve answered for him, for they knew a little bit… though not enough. Most of the questions came from Baek and Christie. The former was shocked that his student housed such a being, and whilst he now understood _why _Hwoarang promised to keep quiet, was still amazed. Christie was just incredibly inquisitive.

_Please protect my little one._

It was that last comment by 'the voice' that had made the Blood Talon enter such a thinking state. Those four sentences repeatedly flowed through his mind, even though they had been said to him, and only him, two days ago, and a fair few moments before Kazama took off. It was for that reason he had silenced everyone, for he was trying to listen to what was said. He had found her helpful in the past, and knew that this new information being given to him would be helpful once again. But that last sentence…

His head snapped up when the door closed quietly. Through sienna eyes, the 21-year-old noticed Ling step towards him apprehensively with a forlorn smile. She stopped a few feet before him and looked to her left, where Razer lay, still unconscious. The steady beeping of the machinery indicated that she was alright, but still in that ridiculous sleeping state. She thought she heard her close friend mumble 'coma' during the doctor's first briefing, but disregarded it eventually.

The Chinese youth squatted down and placed her hands steadily on his knees. Her brown eyes met his, staying locked together, silently passing through emotions to one another. Their gaze was eventually broken when Hwoarang turned to look at his best friend once more, and when he looked back, it was made apparent to her that just seeing at the 20-year-old like that, knowing he couldn't do anything but hold his breath…

Xiaoyu took her hands off his knees and brought them to his shoulders. She pulled him close towards her in a tight hug, stroking his red hair comfortingly, even as he tried to hold his shivering. They may have started off on the wrong foot, and both thought that the other was quite brain dead, but… through all that, they had more in common than they realised, and quickly became close friends, only rivalled by their best friends respectively, "She'll be alright."

She felt him nod a little and sigh thereafter, "Mm."

The 18-year-old released her hold, pulled back and studied his face for a moment before commenting, "You look so tired Hwoarang… You really should go back to your room and get some rest there. It can't be healthy for you to sleep in a chair for the last few days. When was the last time you had a serious meal? Or a shower for that matter? You need to shave that stubble away, young man!"

The comments had cracked a smile, though he still retorted in a sad voice, "I'm not leaving until she wakes up."

A pause, "…You know, I haven't seen you with a stubble before. You look really different."

The Korean shrugged, exhaled, and leant back in his chair, watching as his friend sat on her rear on the cold, white floor. He put his hands behind his head and sunk into the seat, "How're the others doing? You found Kazama yet?"

"I think after the death threats you made to him, he won't be popping up for some time."

"I'm not gonna _literally_ kill him, Xiao."

"You get my point."

"Shut it."

"Make me."

"Can't be bothered."

Silence took the reigns of the conversation once again. The only thing that filled the room aside from it was the gentle beeping of the machines, and their flowing breaths. It was around four in the afternoon, and Ling had just left school. She had sprinted down to check up on her two friends, not to mention get away from the teachers. She had managed to put the memories of a few days ago behind her and somehow focus on her school work, though the attention was still miniscule.

What worried her the most at the moment, though, was Miharu. She had been down since the match, and had not perked up at all. If anything, as the days went on, it got worse and worse, to the point where it was as though Xiao was being brought down too. She tried to help her, but the Japanese teen would just shrug it off, fake a smile and be on with her day. So the other part of her journey was to tell Hirano's boyfriend, and to see if he knew of anything disturbing her.

"What's up with you?" The Korean inquired, furrowing his eyebrows.

The 18-year-old cleared her throat and looked up at him once more, "Do you know if anything is bothering Mi?"

A pause ensued, before Hwoarang shook his head, "Not that I know of, no. Why?"

"Something's been noticeably wrong with her since the match…" She noticed his face turn into one of surprise, "…but I dunno what it is, and she won't accept my offers of help. She seems rather… down. Like she's thinking and upset. She hasn't said a word to anyone all day today. I though perhaps you may know something, but seeing as you don't… well… there goes that plan, I guess…" She sighed.

"Geez, hope she's alright…"

"Do you love her?"

That query had caught him off guard. He blinked a few times, "Come again?"

"Do you love Miharu?" The martial artist asked again, curious.

He looked down to his jeans, "You want the truth or the lie?"

"How about both?"

That also caught him off guard. After some hesitance, he began to speak, "I wasn't really prepared for that so you get the following choppy statement, alright? …I… care about her immensely. I do love her, but… not like I love…" He gestured to the sleeping woman beside him, tilting his head in that direction as though to point, "…_her._"

"So you love her, and like her in _that_ way, but you're not 'in love' with her?"

"I suppose. There's only been one person who I've ever been 'in love' with," He used his fingers for quotation effects during the statement, before slipping back into his previous sitting position, hands once again behind his head, "and that would be Raze. Truth be told… I still am… I don't think it'll ever stop."

Xiaoyu arched a thin, curvy, black eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"First and only love. It's like you with Kazama – do _not _give me that shit, by the way, it's still pretty fucking obvious. He is your first and only, and she's my first and only. First loves are just special like that. Cheesy as it sounds, but you'll always love them and do everything within your power to ensure their happiness and protection. Its like first crushes. You might never see them again, for whatever reason, but you'll always remember them."

She looked up to the subject being spoken about, watching the woman breathe, "Do you want to be with her?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do. More than anything… But…" Hwoarang looked to the sleeping Athane, "…if she wants to be with someone else, then I'm not going to stop her, and I don't want her stopping for me. I can take the hit for her. I… managed… when I found out about her and Kazama. I can certainly manage again."

"Mmm."

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna be with Mr I-Have-An-Abnormally-Large-Stick-Up-My-Ass?"

A shrug, "I'll just take your answer and use it as mine… But… there's Seong-Hada too."

Hwoarang did a double take, "Seong-Hada?"

"Yeah."

"You like Seong-Hada?"

"Go a problem with that?" She inquired with some anger in her voice.

"No, no. Just… nice."

"Nice?"

"He could always use someone like you. Good luck with him."

"Thank you?"

"No problem?"

"…_Anyway… _You two though, are really something, you know," The Chinese youth began, standing up, brushing dust off her form, "You both love each other more than the other knows. You'd do anything for each other, and everything for each other. You mean everything to her, just as she means everything to you…" A light laugh, "You act like a couple, yet you've never been together. You treat each other like a significant other, yet that is only a dream to both of you. You're not just 'best friends'. You're not just 'brother and sister', by bond or whatever. You're not even 'lovers'. You're all of that, and beyond. I've never seen anything like it in my life, and it's awesome."

The 21-year-old smiled wholly, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making me feel better."

Ling stuck her thumb up in support and winked, "No problem, Rang."

Amusement appeared on his face within one second, "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"'_Rang_'?"

"Don't like it?"

"Never had that as a nickname before, that's all."

"Ah. Well, that's my new nickname for you now then, alright?"

He shrugged and raised his hands, "Fine by me."

She leant forward and hugged him tightly, a gesture which was returned just as strongly. Once the exchange was completed, the petite fighter made her way to the door, stopping just before, a hand happily placed on the frame. She looked over her shoulder, seeing that the man was once again staring at the woman who had his heart. Her soft voice flowed towards him, "Hey?"

"Mm?"

"It'll happen someday. You and her. There might be people between you, but it'll happen someday. You just wait."

Another smile arrived on his face as she closed the door quietly, leaving him to his thoughts and his former monitoring duties.

Time soon passed. Seong-Hada had dropped in for dinner, bringing some outside food for his gang leader. They spoke of events that had transpired recently, including the 19-year-old's traumatic experience at the hideout a few weeks back. The younger Korean felt that Hwoarang had the right to know, so he caved in and told him everything that had occurred. The ordeal had left him in a shaky state, but internally, he felt much better for it.

He eventually left when it was closing time. The Blood Talon was thankful for the large distraction, as it had chewed up a fair few hours of his time. Visitng hours were over at 8:30 at night, and before his close friend had departed, he was handed his MP3 Player to keep him entertained for a while, for however long. So far it had been an hour, and its charm was wearing out quickly.

Bored with looking at his jeans, Hwoarang looked up the woman still asleep. He turned off his music, cutting it off in the centre of the chorus of Breaking Benjamin's 'Breath', and placed the MP3 Player on the floor next to his chair leg, before pondering what to do now. He was a little tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. He was way too awake for that at the moment.

He wondered if she was alright in her head. Was the corrupt angel causing any trouble during the mending process, or was she behaving like a good girl? Was the 'purified strand' doing anything to 'purify' the rest of the Gene? Was anything of that sort going on…? Was Razer scared, or was she just… exhausted? Did either of them know how long they had been unconscious for…?

A large sigh slipped out of him as he dragged his chair closer towards the bed, the chair legs screeching over the floor. He peeled his goggles off his head, letting them slide down his throat and rest around his neck, soon to be forgotten. He slipped his left hand under the bed covers, found her left one, and gripped it tightly, all thoughts back on a strong fire… just in case she was feeling uneasy in there. Just in case. Just in case. Just in case…

_Fire's warm and bright, and it guides people through the darkness. _

Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.

_Are you cold in there? Are you lost? Come on, follow the fire. Go towards the warmth and the light._

Focus, focus, focus.

_You're alright. You're protected. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. If you wake up, you'll see it for yourself._

Concentrate, focus, concentrate, focus.

_Follow my love. It'll guide you out of that coma when you're ready, okay? _

Focus, concentrate, focus, concentrate…

_I hope you can hear me… _

He shuffled a little closer and rested his head next to hers on the pillow, eyes taking in the white world around him.

* * *

I'm floating.

_Weightless._

Just floating.

_Motionless._

Only floating.

_Stationary._

I'm so light.

_Buoyant._

I feel so free.

_Unchained._

I feel… burdenless.

_Your eyes open and take in the darkness around you. You do not feel as though you're standing, for it does not feel like your legs are supporting your weight; but you still feel stable in the environment, despite the sea of black. Despite all this knowledge, your eyes continue to wander around, taking in the place… and your mind tries to remember the last few things that happened to you. What has put you in such a state? Where are you? How long have you been this way? How many hours have passed in this black room?_

_You move your arm and raise it before your eyes. You can see yourself quite clearly. It's as though you're an insert into a black background. This one colour just going on forever and ever and ever and ever and ever. Stretching on in all directions, an endless maze of one solid –_

_A footstep._

_It rings clear through the area. Your head snaps in the direction of the sound, and you ponder for a good, long minute who could've been here now. Your mind recalls the last few moments of your conciousness, and it was only the cause of your pain who had the ability to contact you like this. No one else. And it would be a million years, you thought, if Jin even considered coming to check up on you in such a manner. Not after what he did to you._

_You force yourself to stop floating and stand. Your feet are now firmly planted on nothingness, and you can feel your body weight being held up by your deadly legs. You swallow forcefully as another footstep is heard, then another and another. Judging by the growing volume of the footsteps, the person in question is coming closer and closer towards you._

_Soon enough it's echoing around you, moving freely like a spell. You look over one shoulder, then your other, trying to see the person in question. You wrap your arms around yourself, cold and lost, like the little girl you used to be. You hold your breath as the footsteps get closer and closer together, like a constant string as opposed to disjointed and slow._

_You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to bear with the noise anymore._

_Weak mortal. You couldn't even get through the match with your eyes open! How prophetically pathetic._

_You tell the woman who just spoke to you to go away. You have no time for her bullshit. It is with the strength of the voice do you believe it is her surrounding you, taunting you, frightening you. You wonder, though, why you could not see her glowing red eyes in the darkness. They would've unquestioningly been a beacon, and you should've picked them up. Perhaps she is just contacting you in your mind and manipulating the situation elsewhere…?_

_Mind… You are in your mind, and the footsteps around you is fear. You have created this yourself. Falling to the floor, you pull your legs against your chest and continue to hold yourself. Footsteps were always bad to you, whether they were that of your Father coming up the stairs or around the corner… or the being inside of you walking in circles around you, assessing your weaknesses. Even when you were around _them _for the first few months, you were extremely jumpy around them when they approached._

_Your body shivers, though towards your upper-left, you can feel some heat. It feels far off, though close by – something you don't quite understand. Your head snaps up in the direction, and you squint through the darkness to see a flickering light. It sways and moves, waiting for you… Waiting for you. _

'Fire's warm and bright, and it guides people through the darkness.'

_Fire… Its fire. _

_You lift your head higher up, recognising the voice. But how…?_

'Are you cold in there? Are you lost?'

"_Yes…" You answer weakly, not sure where this was going, not sure if the owner of the voice could hear you. You slowly push yourself off the ground, shaking. You feel so vulnerable and lost. It is a feeling you hoped to long abandon, but look at you now… Being chased away by footstep memories in your own mind, your breath caught in your throat. You can see it coming out in small puffs, though your vision is blurred with warm water._

'Come on, follow the fire. Go towards the warmth and the light.'

_A guide. A way. A map. A direction. A place to go._

_You lift your heavy feet and slowly walk towards it, not quite sure why, but determined to follow his directions. He has never led you astray before, and he would not start now. That would be one of the last things he'd ever dream of doing. Considering where you are and what's going on, it would be best to follow his directions. Perhaps if you reached his fire, you would receive the answers you had been pondering in this place – how long?_

'You're alright. You're protected. I'm not going anywhere, I promise.'

_Small puffs of breath leave your lips in ragged gasps. The footsteps behind you follow you. In a few instances, it feels as though the back of your shoe has been trodden on by what, or whoever, is behind you. You pick up the pace, now walking quickly, the flame in the corner of your mind becoming bigger, brighter and stronger due to you closing in on it. The warm radiation feels nice on your cold face._

'If you wake up, you'll see it for yourself.'

Keep going, keep going, keep going, _You urge yourself, now breaking into a run. Your face is further heated up by the gentle trickle of two lukewarm rivers, each going down on separate sides of it. You're not entirely sure why you're crying, or why you feel so choked up, but it is an overpowering feeling. It is both sad, and happy. Sad because of the events that had transpired before you slipping into unconsciousness, as well as the fear you were beginning to leave behind in your run; and happy that despite everything you thought now, everything you always thought… you weren't alone._

'Follow my love. It'll get you out of that coma when you're ready, okay?'

_Coma…? You weren't out for just hours, then. Probably days. Maybe longer. You inwardly wince at the thought. You couldn't have been that badly damaged, could you…? And if so, why did you feel alright now? Normally those types of things parallel for you. In almost every instance you can remember, if you were sore physically, you were also sore mentally._

_You stop your run, breathing still short and fast, and look around, away from the flame, trying to find the corrupt angel. If you were feeling alright like this… then… it was her doing. She fixed you. She did it for you. She made you all better. But why could you not see her in this instant? She was always there. She was always there… tormenting you._

_You form two words in your mind, letting them spill forth throughout the place. You hope your words carry over to her, wherever her exhausted form may now lie. You didn't want to verbally thank her, because you knew you wouldn't be able to… though the feeling was still there._

'I hope you can hear me…'

"_I can hear you," You answer the shaky voice firmly with a smile._

_You resume your chase, feeling the fire warm your entire body. The smile remains brandished on your face as you continue to run, so close now, so exquisitely close. The tiny flicker of flame you saw all that time ago in the corner of your mind… now so large, so tall, so bright, so strong, so warm… and still waiting for you. Still waiting for you._

_You stop, now standing before it. What now?_

_Swallowing the fear of seeing nothing but black behind it, you peer inside the fire, the flames lashing about. Your fears die immediately when you see nothing but love. All the love in the world. From your Mother, from the parts of your family who actually cared_, _from your friends, from them, from _him. _In past, present or future. In reality, or in fantasy. All of it._

_It's disguised in the form of memories. They flow through in a hurried blur, though not so unidentifiably fast. You recognise blurs of your brown hair and his red hair, of times never forgotten and always treasured. Through thick, through thin… Through uncertain waters and fragile smiles._

_You extend your hand out, not afraid of the burns._

Razer blinked a few times as she left the black scenario behind her. It was replaced with a white one that was making her eyes ache. A perfect contrast. Swallowing, she turned her eyes away from the ceiling and looked around. It was when she looked to her left did she see Hwoarang asleep beside her, and felt his hand over hers. With a light smile, she rested her head on his and turned her hand upward, meeting his grasp.

The touches made him shuffle a little. It took a fair few moments before Hwoarang opened his eyes. He blinked multiple times, trying to get used to the light once more. He had only nodded off for a little while, he assumed. Then again, perhaps not. With an exhale of breath, he tried to raise his head, only to realise that he couldn't. Confused, his eyes darted towards the source of the problem, and the discovery made him smile uncontrollably.

"Dork," Athane stated blankly, though the emotion behind the light taunt couldn't be hid from her face.

"Bitch," He retorted in the same friendly manner, carefully slipping his free arm underneath her body in a light hug.

"Noob."

The smiled morphed into a grin. He pulled himself as close to her as he was able, nuzzling against her neck, "You scared me, you know. Going into a coma for two days straight. What were you trying to do, give me a heart attack?"

"Oh, I was totally trying to give you a heart attack," She replied with sarcasm, relishing the feel of his fingers against her body, "But I feel much better than I did when I passed out. I might be able to get out tomorrow, if I am lucky I suppose. And I really do hope that I'm lucky this time."

"Please don't scare me that much again…" The Blood Talon whispered quietly, seriously, shuffling once again, "You didn't just worry me, you worried everyone. I'm pretty sure if the room could hold all of us in here for two days straight, not going to get food or shower or shave or sleep, that everyone would've stayed here."

"That would explain why my neck is itchy," Razer remarked in reference to the absence of shaving.

"Yeah, but I still look good. Don't deny it, babe."

She retorted through a sleepy yawn and a wide grin, her head still on his, "I'll keep my opinions to myself thank you very much… But for now… I am going back to sleep. I may be feeling better, but I still feel a bit weak. Good night."

"Night."

He stayed there, just listening to her breathe, allowing her breath to flow down onto him with strength. His worries disappeared along with his alert state, because her inhalation and exhalation of air confirmed to him that through all of this, there was no doubt that she was gonna be alright. She was gonna be alright. She was alright.


	36. When It Rains

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** Jin's Ending is done! Posting this now because I r sew happeh that it is! Hwo's is almost done too :D :D :D Oh, and I don't think that Jin x Razer fans will be very happy with this chapter _–shifty eyes- _Enjoy regardless :P I couldn't resist an update XD And a quick reminder, _forgive any spelling errors, _my spell check died back in Chapter 34.

_**Chapter Thirty-Six: When It Rains **_

Despite that little joyful experience, Razer had taken an emotional turn for the worst once she was out of hospital the next day at 7am sharp.

She had led herself to her room, secluding herself in there, alone, for hours and hours on end with one person on her mind.

Jin.

Where was he? Was he alright? Was he recovering from his own wounds? Did he realise it wasn't his fault that she was hurt like this? Did he realise that it was okay? That she wasn't angry? That no one blamed him? That no one thought of him, or her for that matter, any differently because of their Genes? That everything was okay?

The Greek had encountered Miharu in the hotel. Her smile was wide and true, and her greeting hug was gentle. She was glad to see her out of that damn bed, and alive and well, but was puzzled as to why Hwoarang was not accompanying her. The petite youth got a quiet answer out of her friend eventually, which was merely 'I asked him not to'. This in itself was highly unusual for her, and Hirano found herself scratching her head as the fighter trudged up to the stairs with heavy footsteps, and a heavy soul.

She was currently curled up on her bed, staring into the wall blankly. The last parts of the fight just continued to play through her mind. Devil Jin was so ruthless, so cruel, so torturous… It was a far cry from the Jin she knew and loved from the bottom of her heart. She couldn't believe that there was such a beast inside of such a gentle person. She could believe what was in her, because she knew she could be a bitch and cruel… but Kazama…? Never.

Why do you worry about such a monster? He is able to take care of himself. He did before.

_It's called caring, _Athane replied.

Your so called 'caring' will be your ultimate downfall, in every miniscule aspect. 

_Is there ever a time of day where you shut your big fat mouth and leave me alone?_

Do you ever recall such a time?

_No, but it would be lovely if such a time began as of… _now.

Sorry to disappoint. Try again, mortal.

They continued their bickering before there was a knock on the door. With a light sigh, she stood, one hand to her head, realising that she was still being taunted, and walked towards the source of the noise, knowing full well who it was. She opened the door, looking down at her feet, desperately trying to distract herself from the source of her inner torment.

Hwoarang picked up on this and stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and gently pushed her back to her bed. He didn't say anything, because actions always spoke louder than words… and right now, he just wanted to help her drown out the corrupt angel. He hoped that sleep would do the trick, like it normally did as far as he knew. Then again, what did he know about this _really? _Hardly anything.

So as usual, Athane lay down on her left side, facing the wall, curled up as she had been before the interruption. Behind her was her best friend, half curled up around her, one arm around her stomach, holding her against him, and the other sticking out from between her body and the mattress, currently without a use.

Within a few minutes of the eery silence, the 20-year-old's hand left her head and charged straight for her mouth, hoping to tear off a few nails in stress. The Blood Talon noticed this immediately, and with his free hand, began to tug the current index finger away from her mouth, "Hey, don't do that."

She ignored him with a shrug of her shoulders, trying again, but this time, his attempt to take her hand away was successful. However, the moment he let go created a rubber-band effect, and the victim finger charged straight back in. Agitated, Hwoarang removed it again, pinned her arm down with his elbow (as difficult as it was in this situation), and wiggled his own fingers before her face. Curious, the Greek looked up at him, seeing a cleanly shaven face and a mischievous smirk.

"If you gotta chew something, chew my nails instead of yours."

"That's disgusting."

The smirk only widened. His point proven, he spoke, hand down, "So, you've just been lying here all day?"

"Mhm."

"That's eight hours," He stated. 7am – 2pm, so far.

"She has been quite a hassle… and… I've been wondering about Jin all day."

Hwoarang tried hard not to insult the man at the moment, for her sake, "I'm sure he's fine."

Razer shrugged and looked back against the wall.

"Wow, Miharu was right, you're noticeably down. Well, I have just the cure for that."

"No tickling."

"I wasn't going to, but now that you mention it…"

"_No,_" She repeated with an angry growl.

She was serious. The strength of her voice indicated that to him, and he was amazed and shocked all at the same time. After recovering from said shock, he narrowed his eyebrows and sat up, pulling her up with him quite easily, "Right. You're coming with me. _Now._"

He was too strong for her. No matter how hard she tried, the Korean was simply picking her up and pulling her out the door like a rag doll. Throughout the situation at hand, she whined like a little child, "I don't want tooooo… Hwoarang, put me back, I don't want to leave my room. Put me back? Please?"

"I'm not letting you mope in there. I'm taking you out."

"But –"

"No buts."

With that, they were out of the hotel and heading straight for the Plaza.

When they got there, Hwoarang stopped in the middle of the area, and put his hands on his hips, looking at his counterpart through wide and bright sienna eyes. He smiled and spoke firmly, "Right. So, what do you wanna do first?"

"I want to go back to my room."

"Aside from that."

"There is no 'aside from that', there is only 'I want to go back to my room'," She answered, using her fingers for quotation mark effects. Afterwards, the Greek put her hands behind her back and looked up at her best friend, hoping her point was proven.

Unfortunately it wasn't, "Look, you can go back and mope later. It's a nice day today. Let's use it before it rains."

She gave up and crossed her arms, "Fine, let's just wander around here first."

Shrugging, Hwoarang stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed her lead. She marched towards the left side of the Plaza, walking along the shops, occasionally taking glances in them from the corner of her eyes, hoping that he wouldn't notice. But oh, he did. And it made him grin widely and shamelessly. Inside, he was snickering, because she didn't want to come out of her room, but look at her now.

He too looked in sometimes, curious as to what she might be looking at. A few times, their gaze met in the glass, causing him to look away abruptly and clear his throat. After the fourth time this occurred, he started to speak, hoping to break up the bone-chilling silence between them, "So… uh… Anything you wanna talk about? Anything at all."

"When's your fight?"

"Um… in four days. On Saturday. At… 9 at night.'

"Where?"

"…I forgot."

Razer looked at him with an amused smirk and hurriedly slapped him up the back of the head, "Idiot. You should know! It's your fight!"

His hands flew up in defence after the blow. He whined, "Don't hit meeeeeee!"

She giggled and rolled her eyes, looking back into a nearby window. To her surprise, she found herself stopping, for something had caught her eye. She turned completely, eyes trailing the object from the top to the bottom, staring at it through wide green eyes.

Hwoarang too turned, standing beside her, and followed her line of sight. It landed on a white dress. It was without sleeves, came down to the mid-calf, and from the hip, blue streaks stemed. It looked nice, but he wondered why this item alone had caught his best friend's attention, when so many other countless, just-as-nice (and nicer) clothes over the years had been snubbed and ignored.

"I… had a dress similar to that… when I was little," Storm Wind remarked dejectedly, sensing his curiosity.

"Well, go try it on," He replied just as lowly.

She shook her head and turned away from the window, "It doesn't matter."

"Geez you're stubborn," Hwoarang growled, grabbing her hand, pulling her into the shop. Leading her through the maze of women, occasional men, and clothing racks, he located the exact dress that was seen in the display window, though in the inner area of the shop. Still holding her hand, he flipped through them until he found her size. With that said and done, he shoved it in her spare hand, and pushed her along to the change rooms, "Just try it on. It's not gonna kill you. Don't make me undress you and put it on."

As expected, a slap was delievered before she turned away and closed the curtain behind her. The Blood Talon rubbed his cheek with a smirk, turning away to look out into the hussle and bustle of the shop. He wondered how the masses found it so easy to navigate between the piles upon piles of clothes, shoes and accessories. It was difficult enough for him to find the dress section and then the change rooms.

Something light hit him over the top of the head. He turned to look, seeing Razer's jacket half hanging over the top railing. The sleeve had hit him. Rolling his eyes, he took it from there and held onto it, before refocussing his attention on the mindless ants herding together pointless items for their own personal reasons.

The curtain hooks scraped over the metal bar, catching his attention. He turned around and jumped, "**Fuck**."

"What?" Razer inquired, hands behind her back, uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to recover and start giggling, "Nothing."

"Hwoarang."

"You. In a dress. _You._"

"You made me try it on!"

"And I stand by my decision. Let's buy it!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"_No._"

"_Yes_."

"_You're poor _Hwoarang. You can't keep flaunting money everywhere."

"Who says I'm paying for it?" He sneered, reaching around to his back pocket, withdrawing a card.

Razer studied it for a moment before looking back at him, "That is Baek's!"

The sneer was replaced by a cheesy grin.

It took a moment for everything to click, "Oh no."

"Oh yes," He growled, still grinning, taking a few steps back, about to run.

She reached out a hand to take it, however he was too fast, and skittered off to find a counter.

Cheeky little bastard, The corrupt angel within chuckled pleasantly.

_You stay the hell out of this, _Athane hissed, turning back into the stall, closing the curtain behind her. She jumped when her cellphone rang, buzzing harshly against the floor where it lay, within her jean pocket. She answered, "What?"

"Don't change into your normal clothes," Came the singsonging voice.

"Excuse me?" She inquired, bewildered.

She knew the Blood Talon was grinning, "All paid for, and because of my bad-ass charm on teenage girls, you can walk out of the store in the dress. Mwahaha. Now you need shoes."

"Hwoarang, _no._"

"Ooh, these look nice…"

"What the fuck is wrong with you today?!"

"Just trying to cheer you up…" He replied, a noticeable chunk of the hyper-ness gone from his voice.

With that, she was met with a dial tone.

There you are again. Being a selfish, introverted _bitch._

She slipped her phone into her pocket and dazed out, listening to the corrupt angel talk.

He is just trying to make you forget about your troubles, if only for a day. Let the poor man do what he wants to do. _You __know_ he loves you, and _you__ know_ that he won't stop trying to make you feel better about the events that have recently transpired until _you do _feel better about it. So stop pushing him away. You have done enough of that to him to last a lifetime. He is aware that you want to be alone, but he does not want you to slip back into that depressive, shitty state you have been accommodated with many times. Stop pushing him away, would you? Let him in.

Athane sighed, folding her clothes neatly on top of one another. She bit her lip for a moment, bending down to grab her boots, thereafter grabbing the rest of her items from the stall and leaving. She followed his scent, eventually being led to the back corner of the store, where the shoes had been neatly organised. Down one of the isles was her best friend, his face inspecting the objects, though still showing a hint of upset-ness. Both hands were behind his back, and in his left hand was a bag being loosely held by the straps.

She cleared her throat, and in an instant, his head snapped towards her. He stuck the bag hand out, letting go of one of the straps so the bag could open up more, and spoke noticeably calmly, all of the former hyperactivity long gone from his voice, "Put your stuff in here."

Storm Wind complied immediately, nodding lightly, placing her items in the bag, knowing the Korean was watching.

"You're walking around barefoot?"

Let. Him. In, The corrupt angel within repeated, noticing that her host was about to scowl and attack him.

The friendly counter came, "You said I needed shoes, didn't you?"

He said nothing, turning back to the endless shelves of shoes, and shrugged, lowering his arm, all the items now in the bag. He noticed when she moved to stand along side him, looking at the items before her as well, trying to feign some form of interest. He couldn't help but grin when he saw her stand on her tippy-toes and peer over the edge, from the corner of his vision.

He rolled his eyes and put the bag down, placing both hands on either side of her waist, "Ready?"

"Mhm."

With ease, he lifted her up and off the ground, seeing her curl her fingers curl over the edge so she could get a better look at the items above. He found it incredibly tempting to crack a joke, but refrained. She clearly wasn't in the mood and could blow up for no reason at any given moment. He felt her shuffle around a little more, hearing things be moved, "Got something you like?"

"Yeah, I've got a nice pair in my size. Put me down."

The Korean complied immediately before looking at the shoes for himself. Plain white sandals, "'Simplest stuff is always the best'. Right?"

"I cannot believe you still remember me saying that. I was fourteen dammit," She replied with a smirk, now sitting on the floor. Grabbing one of the shoes to try on to make sure it'd fit, she briefly looked up at him as he began to reply, his own smirk set deep on his face.

"You'd be surprised what I remember."

"Oh really, Red?" Razer drawled.

"Yes really."

"Fine. Name something you used to tease me about in the first three months of us knowing each other."

"Breast size. And I must say, the view from up here's awesome. They've flushed out quite nicely."

Instinct kicked in. Covering the previously mentioned area with her arms, she lashed her left foot out, kicking him in the shin, ignoring the laugh, eyebrows furrowed, glaring up at the perverted perpetrator. Yet once again, despite all attempts to keep the angry face set in, she could feel the corner of her lips curling up into a large, true, amused smile.

"There she is," He cooed, pulling at her cheek teasingly with his free hand, "There's my little Raze."

She rolled her eyes and took the shoe off, placing it back in the box. It fitted perfectly, "Fuck you."

"Okay, let me just go find us somewhere private."

To further illustrate his joke, he went to leave, but was stopped from moving any further when she grabbed the back of his jeans.

He didn't bother turning around. He could hear her giggling, "Any excuse to touch my ass, huh?"

The laughter soon became uncontrollable, though still at a quiet level. Once she let go, Hwoarang turned around, hands in his pockets, seeing her cover her mouth, trying hard to regain control her current chuckles. He smiled whole-heartedly. He knew that dragging her out of her room would do her some good, despite her protests.

"So!" The Blood Talon began once she had settled down, rocking back and forth on his feet, "Are we done in here?"

The 20-year-old nodded, still snickering, giving him the box with the shoes, "Get outta here."

He skittered off once again, locating the cash register much easier than the past attempt. Storm Wind stood, that cheek-aching smile still plastered on her face, her gaze pitched at the floor. What was it about this man that could bring her out of the darkest depths in a matter of moments? And not just _now_, in this instant and situation… _always. _Always always always. At any time, place or situation. Rain, hail or shine. At the dojang, on the streets, or at the tournament.

Recovering from her thoughts, she weaved her way out of the back corner, searching for red hair to follow. She eventually spotted it, and bounded over towards him, seeing him take Baek's card back from the young girl at the register and turning away. Calling out his name, thus causing him to stop, she walked over, still full of smiles.

"So, you _are _gonna walk around barefoot…"

"Give me those shoes," She deadpanned with narrowed eyes.

"Here," He stuck his hand out, watching them be snatched away.

A few moments later, the useless cardboard had been disposed of, and they left the area, pointlessly wandering once more without a place to go. The Greek looked to her counterpart, noticing he was still carrying her stuff. She stopped walking, and reached a hand across his body, trying to grab the bag, "I'll carry it."

"Jesus Raze, any lower and your hand'll be brushing against my –"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"Can I finish the thought?"

She rolled her eyes with an amused grin, "Can I please have my stuff?"

"I said I'd carry it," He replied, moving the bag way out of arm's reach, "So I'm gonna carry it."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Be that way."

"I will."

"Good."

"Glad you agree."

"I do."

"Lunch?"

"Okay. What food do you want?"

"Anything."

"Sure," Hwoarang nodded.

He stretched a little and began looking around, about to take off once more, but was stopped with a light clasp to his free hand. He looked to the woman next to him, who didn't have the heart to look at him in return, and was simply gazing at their shadows cast on the concrete beneath their feet, "Thank you."

He smiled and squeezed it in return, pulling her along for their search for food, not letting go, swinging their hands childishly. He knew it wasn't for taking her out, or for the items, or for the coming food, and so on. It was for trying to make her feel better, trying to make her smile – something he prided himself on. It was for that. Not for anything else.

The silent minutes slipped by, noticed by both Iron Fist Participants. Neither spoke – merely observed the area around them, the other beside them and the other, unimportant people. The area was calm and placid. The Korean was calm as well, though slightly edgy. His best friend was slightly relaxed and not as focused on her last fight as previous. The people around them simply went about their daily routine, fiddling with things, and tourists observed items in store windows. Sometimes they'd look their way and try and catch their attention. One person did, and it was Alyssa from the last tournament, once again with her Mother.

She didn't approach this time, for she was busy observing some toys in a small shop window. Her Mother had whispered something in her ear that caused her to look towards them. She had merely waved, her smile wide. Razer returned the wave with a similar smile, and Hwoarang nodded at her, grinning.

Soon enough, they were standing in the middle of the food court once more, looking around. Something seemed to catch the 21-year-old's attention, and it caused him to speak and stop swinging their hands. He looked to his left for a good moment, before turning to her, "You know something?"

"What?"

"We've been to Japan three times now, and haven't tried any of their food."

"And?"

"Let's go to a sushi bar!" the Blood Talon suggested.

"Do I have to use chopsticks?" Storm Wind inquired warily, recalling her past, embarrassing experiences with chopsticks.

"Probably."

"I'd prefer not to."

"Hey now, you said anything."

"_Chopsticks _dammit. Do you really want me to make an ass out of myself by trying to use them again?"

"Yes?"

"Are fingers an option?"

"Always."

"Fine."

With that settled, they moved away from the middle of the area, going towards the male's left, no longer looking lost and clueless. Time moved much faster than it had previously, and they were welcomed warmly by a waitress, who seemed to be an avid fan of the Korean (and was subsequently eyeing their joint hands darkly). He had noticed it very quickly as well, tightening his hold, pulling her body closer towards him as though to advertise to the girl that he wasn't interested in whatever she might be planning.

She gestured to a window both, overlooking the grassy fields behind the Plaza, and handed them both menus before leaving. Once the woman was out of earshot, Razer spoke with a snicker, sitting down, "She was checking you out."

"I know," He stated proudly, grinning, sitting on the opposite side, "And she was giving you death glares."

"Nan ara yo," She replied in the same manner as him and with the same words, only in his language.

"Ha!"

Sticking her tongue out at him, Athane looked at the menu blankly, crossing her right leg over the other. She skimmed over the foods on display in a bored manner, not quite sure what she wanted, nor caring about it either. She raised her left hand, brushing away a few strands of her hair from her shoulder, which was bothering her, before resting her cheek in the palm of the same hand. She chewed the inside of her mouth, eyes still scanning the food.

"I know that look."

The Greek youth looked up for a minute, "Hm?"

"I said, 'I know that look'," Hwoarang repeated, still observing his own menu, turning the page.

"How can you 'know that look' when you are not even looking?"

"Corner of my eyes."

"Sure."

"It's the 'oh fuck this, I don't care' look. Is it safe to assume that therefore you'll 'go with whatever' I end up having?"

"Naturally. You would know better than me after all."

"Sometimes I wonder what you'd do without me," He teased, looking up finally, leaning back, his meal decided.

"Run around naked screaming for joy," She joked, closing her own menu, looking at him.

Hwoarang blinked several times, ignoring the giggles coming from his friend after a lengthy pause, ignoring the 'your face… you need a mirror to see your face right this instant' that came through them; and countered, hands now behind his head, "Really now? Nice to know I'm so appreciated. Guess I'll have to go kill myself to see such a one-time-only sight, and so I can point and laugh at your failures."

The giggles didn't stop, but eventually slowed. Once breathing returned to normal, Razer placed both of her hands on the table beside one another, and looked at them, "Of course I appreciate you, idiot. I was merely joking around."

"**I know.**"

"**If you know, then was it absolutely necessary to retort?**" She mumbled under her breath.

"**Not this game again…**"

"**Oh no, not this game…**"

"Refrigerator."

"…What?"

"There. Back in English."

The waitress returned, all smiles for Hwoarang, and all scowls for the 20-year-old. Razer wondered for a moment how he was going to recite their order, seeing as he didn't speak Japanese, but when he slipped into his native tongue, she understood. The woman was Korean, or at least knew Korean. He must've known this when he saw her. _How, _she didn't know. There are probably some physical differences between Koreans and Japanese people that are obvious to him, but not to her. She didn't know or care to take notice about them.

"**Is that all?**" She asked sweetly.

"**Yeah, thanks.**"

"**I will return with your dishes soon,**" With that, she left, tucking her pen behind her ear.

Her attention had turned elsewhere during the conversation. She was now gazing out the window, chin still resting in her hand, her right leg moving up and down for no particular reason… just something to do. Just like her eyes, her mind too wandered, returning to the Japanese man she had fought against a few days ago. The Blood Talon's efforts to keep her attention off of him were wasted.

_Do you think… he knows I am okay? _She asked the corrupt angel, seeing her face in the window.

How should I know? He's the one who knows about this whole 'mind speaking' stuff.

_It was simply a question. _

Well, I don't feel like talking. Go away.

She blinked, highly amused, _I beg your pardon? _You're_ in _my _mind. I can speak to you if I wish. _

Raze… I'm tired. It took a lot of time and effort to get you back up to scratch. Please, don't disturb me. I need to rest too.

_When _I _do not wish to be disturbed, you disturb me. However when _you _do not wish to be disturbed, I must follow your request? I think not! If I want to hassle you, then hassle you I shall. So… _She began, internally prodding the other being within her, _Do you think he knows that I'm alright?_

I don't know dammit! Fuck off! I'm tired!

With a light smirk, she withdrew, leaving the corrupt angel alone. Surely he'd know. He'd 'feel' it, like he 'felt' all of the bad stuff going on between the 3rd and 4th Tournaments at the hideout. She was tempted to try and contact him, but opted against it, almost sure that their distance was too great even to get a simple 'hello' across. And either way he _must've _known. After all, he knew when she was upset when she discovered that Hwoarang had found out about them –

A light touch to her shin had her snap out of her thoughts and her gazing. The fighter looked under the table, seeing the tip of her best friend's shoe gently glide up and down the skin. She looked up to Hwoarang, seeing his face filled with worry, and felt his foot slide to the side of her leg, still continuing its affectionate actions. She smiled at him and shuffled about in her seat, "I'm fine."

"Good," He replied, not stopping what he was doing, turning head slightly to see the waitress return with food and drink.

The snitted remark came, followed by a stiff bow and fast exit, "**Enjoy your meal.**"

Razer grinned to herself before turning to look at the food placed before her. With a pleased growl, she looked back up at the Blood Talon, the grin still on her face. He spoke, arms folded across his stomach, "Aren't I good to you? Finger food. No chopsticks required. …Speaking of remembering stuff, do you remember how to say 'chopsticks'?"

"Chot karak."

"'Spoon'?"

"Sut karak."

"Sweet! Seong-Hada now owes me five bucks. He didn't think you'd remember those."

"I see…"

Their late lunch (or early dinner) was far from silent. Jokes were cracked every few minutes, friendly banters were quick, and laughter filled out everything in between, especially when the 'skilled' chopstick wielder dropped some of his food. In reaction to being laughed at, he simply flicked some grains of rice at the woman sitting opposite him, only to have most of them go nowhere near their intended target. They much preferred the floor.

"You're retarded, Hwoarang," She remarked, still giggling.

More grains were flicked her way with a challenging sneer.

* * *

The rest of the day went about almost unnoticed. Hwoarang insisted on locating an arcade (which they did, and ran into Asuka there) and playing a few games. Razer insisted on walking around pointlessly at the beach (which they did, and it had resulted in two partially wet participants). It didn't necessarily help when the grey clouds overhead threatened to release rain.

It was this natural warning that caused the two to return to the hotel, still laughing at random things that had occurred during the day, still throwing random remarks or jests at each other in good fun. The walk to the double doors was slow, and they caught sight of a few other participants, namely a laughing Christie, and a confused Eddy, who had simply raised his eyebrow and questioned what had happened to the two of them.

"The usual," The Korean answered him, goggles around his neck, still trying to squeeze water from his hair.

Christie cleared her throat and spoke, eyeing the Greek's new attire with a surprised look, "Which would be…?"

"Mischief!"

That remark had the two Brazilians shaking their heads with glee, and turning back to their outdoor sparring. It seemed that their losses at the Tournament didn't affect them as much as the pair originally believed. After all, a man's life was at stake – Christie's Grandfather, who was Eddy's teacher, was ill. Yet still, to see them both here, still training, proved that perhaps they had something else up their sleeves.

Before the two best friends could get very far though, Monteiro stopped them again, tentatively grabbing Razer's forearm, looking at her smiling friend through worried brown eyes, "Um… Neither of you would happen to know where Steve is… would you…? I haven't seen him all day."

The 20-year-old frowned and shook her head, "Sorry."

She nodded, letting go of her friend, returning to her sparring.

Both Capoiera fighters went inside when it began to rain, though that did not deter Hwoarang from staying outside by himself, underneath the covers, watching the droplets fall from the sky through sienna eyes. Watching the rain alone was something he used to do often. It gave him time to think. That brief memory occured almost an hour and a half ago. Since then, they had gone inside, as well as most of the other participants that happened to be outside. He did not see Steve enter, and therefore couldn't report it to Christie, who was more than worried.

As for he and Razer, he decided that as punishment for pushing him into the freezing ocean, he would mercilessly tickle her until she could not breathe. It didn't take long in the privacy of her room, and it was with those breathy laughs did he deem his mission accomplished. Kazama had been banished from her mind, if only for those few hours. She was herself and happy, and that's what was important. That's what was important.

He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket, studying it with an uninterested face. There were so many thoughts going through his mind at the same time, clouding it. He couldn't pull them apart and choose one to focus on. They were all insistent, nudging one person, one thing, to the direct centre of his mind, thereafter dictating said thought to invade the whole of his mind.

Ah. Razer, Razer, Razer.

Such a sweetheart.

_Stop it, _He growled to himself, _You've got a fucking girlfriend._

The end of the day had left him on a high. A very big high. He hadn't stopped smiling all day, and it had been a long while since he had such vast joy inside to do so. It felt as though they were together, even though they weren't. It felt as though nothing at all had changed between them, though in reality there were many things that had changed… many things that were in the way. Many things.

Then why did it feel like those things didn't matter at all?

He crunched up the cigarette in his hand, deciding against smoking it, and tossed it to his left, watching it slide across from dry to wet pavement. The water caught it and dragged it further away, to an unknown destination, like a drain that may or not have been around the corner. And like that unused, useless cigarette, his mind began to wonder once more to the woman that held his heart.

…That held his heart.

That's why it didn't matter. Of course. Stupid him.

Smiling to himself, he put his hands up behind his head, still leaning against the wall, and looked up to the see-through shelter above him. The moon shone through the cracks in the clouds, illuminating the darkness before him in an eerie glow, as assisted by the dim streetlights. He thought for a moment (when he looked back down) that he could see two people sitting on the green seats further down the main pathway, but shrugged it off. It was unimportant.

He could hear voices coming from inside. They must've been loud if he could hear them over the pitter-pattering of the rain.

"Nina? Do you know where Steve is?"

It was Christie. She was still checking around, obviously.

The assassin's answer was a firm 'no', though he had to strain to hear _that._

There were a few more silent moments before Christie's voice perked up again, unperturbed by the lack of information provided by the missing man's Mother. Her voice was still happy and upbeat, as though she was trying to keep a positive attitude to the situation at hand, "Oh, heya! You lookin' for you-know-who?"

The conversation inside died out until all he could hear were a few, indistinguishable murmurs. With his hands now in his pockets, Hwoarang looked to where the cigarette had been, and still saw other bits and pieces below the tiny tide. He thought he could see some fur from King's mask down there, pinned against the wall. There were also a couple of stray pebbles anchored to the ground.

Creaking had his head snap up to the front door, where he saw the subject of his thoughts emerge from the room inside. So, Christie must have been speaking with her inside. Knowing Athane's tendency to talk quietly, this was rather likely, which would further add to why he had difficulty hearing what was being said in return to the Brazilian.

The 20-year-old looked to her right, now fully outside, before looking the other way, identifying her target. She was in her normal attire, only wearing that Unknown Soldier shirt that was a gift from _that _dickhead two years back, and without her jacket and gloves. She cautiously slunk towards him, head down slightly, and gave a light wave, which was returned in the same manner.

Razer leant against the wall on his right side, looking straight ahead of them into nothing. Her hands were behind her back and her posture was slouched, uninterested in using the wall wholly as support. He made no attempt to speak, knowing that whenever she was ready, she'd speak to him about whatever she needed to say. Judging by the look on her face, there were a lot of things going through her mind as well.

The Blood Talon looked away, his gaze now at the gentle rain once again. He began to chew the inside of his mouth in a bored fashion, waiting for her to say something, or for something to at least happen. He'd be quite happy with a simple bird flying through the night. At least that way he could strike up a conversation, however minimal the dialogue may be.

"I found him."

'Him', of course, _was always, _Kazama.

"Did you talk to him?" He asked, his voice a little louder than hers had been, his eyes no longer focusing on the droplets from the sky. Now, his focus was on keeping the conversation alive, and in trying to keep his emotions together. There was a lump forming in his throat, and he didn't like it. Resting his head against the wall didn't seem to help alleviate the pressure or strength of it either. He just wanted it to go away.

"I tried, but… he ran off."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head and looked at him, seeing him turn his head a little to look back down on her from the corner of his sienna eyes. She tried to smile like she had been earlier, curtesy of him, but failed despite the attempt, "It is not your fault, so don't apologise."

"You do it all the time for no God damn reason."

A light giggle appeared as she turned away, looking back out before her, "True…"

Hwoarang smiled a little and continued to watch her from the corner of his eyes. His smile faded, turning into a frown when within a few moments, the Greek lowered her head, looking directly at her shoes. He couldn't see her face because her hair had fallen in the way of his view, but despite that, he knew that inside she was hurt by Kazama just… leaving, not even letting her talk to him. She just wanted to talk to him.

"I… Why does it feel like that I've done something wrong, when it was a situation out of our control?"

He shrugged lightly, flicking his head a little to have some of the stray red strands move away. He could offer her many reasons, though none of them would seem right. He could tell her many things, but none of them would make the situation any easier to deal with. He could offer her some smart-ass remark, but it wouldn't make the arriving smile any larger.

"I guess I shouldn't dwell on it, hm?" She inquired, the corners of her lips slightly upturned.

"Don't think about it."

"It is hard not to."

Silence.

The Korean bit the inside of his mouth anxiously, wanting for it to pass as quickly as possible. However, when five agonising minutes slid by, he realised that this wasn't going to get better any time soon. He turned his attention back out to the rain aimlessly pooling the area before them. He squinted to still see two people sitting at the seats. Curious.

His gaze drifted once more to Razer, who appeared to be contemplating something. She moved to lean her head on his shoulder, but stopped, having opted against it. She straightened herself up and looked to her right, sighing silently. He smiled a little, chuckling inwardly, and reached his left arm across him, going to grab her head. His fingers curled around her cheek, and gently, he pulled her head down onto his shoulder, letting the hand fall away thereafter. It was alright.

She comfortably stayed there for a lingering moment, before following the direction of his leaving hand, turning inwards towards his body. As she did this, she felt his arms come around her in a soothing embrace, holding her tightly as she sighed in frustration. She too loosely returned the hug, settling comfortably against his form. Her cheek was pressed firmly against his chest, and she couldn't help but smile when she felt his cheek rest at the top of her head, accompanied by one of the hands rubbing her back in slow, hard circles.

Time ticked by, and soon enough, Hwoarang spoke up softly, "You okay now?"

He didn't let go, even as she nodded. Such an act caused her smile to expand.

Something is wrong here.

_What do you mean…? _Athane inquired, not oblivious to the fingers starting to run through her hair.

I hate to spoil the moment, but something is wrong with him. He's… distracted. Distressed. Disturbed.

_Conflicted…?_

Indeed.

"He'll come around," Hwoarang said firmly, though it was hard to do so. He lifted his head, "You'll see."

She didn't say anything for a moment or two, but eventually chose to open her mouth, looking up at him, "Is something the matter?"

"No," He lied, looking down on her with a light smile, hoping to convince her otherwise.

With a small nod, Razer released him and pulled away from his hug. She leant her left side against the wall, and watched as he turned to face her wholly as well. She didn't look up at his face, and was rather staring into space, thinking. Her mind was still being an annoying chatterbox, without the corrupt angel within's influence. She bit her lip in frustration, trying to clear her thoughts as quickly as possible.

The Blood Talon sensed her irritation and propped himself up a little, resting his forearm against the cold wall. His fingers were loosely curled, and he intently stared at his best friend, mentally wishing away the frustration she was feeling. This was supposed to be a happy day. Damn Kazama. Way to fuck up his hard 'cheer up my best friend' work… _again._

He lifted his head back a little when she managed to look up, her leaf green eyes piercing his sienna ones directly. He stared back silently, hoping to communicate his statement of 'say what's on your mind' to her. It sucked that he couldn't really tell her to. He just… wasn't in the right frame of mind himself to do so. But still, he waited patiently, obediently, anxiously.

"Right beyond the cigarette and the devilish smile… you're my crack of sunlight."

His heart heaved, and the thoughts that were running around in his mind were all dispelled to the one thought he wanted to keep away. He lifted his left hand, taking it away from his pocket, and gave it some use, having it gently grabbing her chin to hold it in place firmly. He just wouldn't, _couldn't _resist the urge to press his lips to hers in a firm and loving kiss after so, so long without such a level of affection with her.

His body was wracked with unshed tears, for many, many reasons. He stood there, drinking in all of her breath and taste as though he were starved of it; like a fire without oxygen. And like he, she too stood there, revelling the moment, closed eyes becoming irritatingly damp, her body shaking in the warmth. Her hands were limply poised between the two of them, unable to do anything. She longed to hold him, she longed to say so many unsaid things, but didn't trust herself. After all, their bond was unspoken, and it always had been. All she could do was stand there.

This was not a boy's kiss, but a man's.

It ended far too soon for both their liking, and it was only here did they realise how long they had been pushing such want down. Athane stared at him, his face still only inches from hers, and breathed in shakily, somewhat surprised that he was in the same shivering state that she was. She was sure that he was aware of what he had just done, and what he was going to risk before acting on his feelings, but the need and love in his eyes was indisputable and untameable.

"I love you," He murmured weakly, his voice cracking, "…more than ever."

And that is what the matter is.

She breathed in a sniffle and bit her lip restlessly, her eyes not following his form as he stood away and started to leave. She simply stared into space, hands still uselessly hovering near her stomach, fingers curled. Razer closed her eyes, shutting herself out of the world, and allowed the tears to come. Tears for her. Tears for him. Tears for them, and their dead end. Their torturous, torturous, dead end. It was all she could do anymore, and she hated it. What happened to the woman who could put such feelings down and look the other way…?

Hwoarang's thudding footsteps stopped immediately once he was behind her, standing near the door. He spoke to her firmly, looking over his shoulder sadly, his voice rising above the rain, though below its normal volume, "You didn't cause this."

It was the last she heard and saw of him for the day, her senses being drowned by the rain.


	37. Too Far To Come Back

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** I can't stop updating o_o; And thank you very, very much guys for **over two hundred** **reviews**. I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying this story to such a level, and your words of praise and encouragement keep me going through the dark times. Honestly, I can't thank you enough :)

_**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Too Far To Come Back **_

With a furious growl, he grabbed the piece of paper before him and crunched it up in his hands, carelessly throwing it over his shoulder thereafter. There was another white sheet below it, glaring up at him blankly, asking to be written upon, asking for his thoughts and his feelings to be put down in blue ink… Begging him to do it. Just begging him.

He didn't comply this time, too distraught inside to form coherent words in Hangul or English. Hwoarang sighed feebly and leant over the table, crossing his arms on the top of it, burying his head in the gap that had been formed. He bit his lip worryingly and closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts and expel them onto the paper once more. His thoughts were too far away from him though, and he didn't know how to make them come back.

Taking a deep breath in, he sat up again and moved to attack the paper with the pen again. He drew a wobbly vertical line down the centre of the page for marginal purposes. On one side, he wrote Razer's name, and on the other he wrote Miharu's. He paused, bringing the end of the pen up to his mouth, and started to chew on it.

_Just write what comes, _He reminded himself, _It's not that hard._

Yet nothing came to him. The answers were just sitting there in his head, yet they refused to go through his fingers and out the pen. The Blood Talon growled and tried to force himself to write out positive points about the two girls that he immensely cared about, and then make up his mind from there. This was not fair for either girl, and he had just about enough of trying to maintain feelings for both of them, let alone control himself in regards to his affectionate displays to his best friend.

He suddenly smiled and snickered to himself, spontaneously writing something down on Razer's column.

'She likes my hair.'

Truth be told, he loathed it. He didn't like it ridiculously short either. The only reason he kept it at this length was because she liked it. And after all, all he wanted to do was please her, by whatever means. If it were up to him, it would be shorter, though not as short as the assholes in the military made him cut it. That length was absurd.

Something else came to him, though for Miharu.

'She likes it when I imitate random stuff.'

He had been to her house a few times. Three times when her family wasn't home, and as for the other times, they were home. He liked her parents. They reminded him of his own, or what he could remember of them. Though, the feeling of 'like' was not exactly shared. Her Mother didn't like him, and her Father was a bit… iffy about him. Her younger brother, though, thought he rocked. The 8-year-old found it amusing when he would imitate Miharu, or animals, or something random… And he found out on that particular day that his girlfriend did too.

He came back to the other column.

'She can put up with my stupidity.'  
'She's always been there, and always will.'

And to the other.

'She's stupid _with _me.'  
'She's constantly ready to lend a hand.'

And back again.

'She's beautiful, in every way.'  
'She's saved me.'  
'I can't imagine life without her.'  
'I love her.'

Hwoarang stopped again and looked up a little. He simply stared into space, those last two points constantly swimming back and forth in his mind. He couldn't imagine life without her, because _she is _his life. He loved her, there was no doubt about that. But why? Because… Because… Because…

He grabbed the notebook off the table and hurled it to the ground behind him with a disgruntled sigh, ignoring the echoing sound it created. The pen soon joined the previously thrown item and the goggles he had tossed upon entry into the room; only being hurled by the opposite arm. He leant folded his arms again, feeling his back muscles stretch, and rested his head on his arms once more. His body shivered in the cold, and he wished he bothered to keep his shirt on.

_I give up…_

A gentle touch on his bare shoulder roused him from his frustration. He lifted his head a little, seeing Baek stand there, notebook, pen and goggles in hand. He watched as his mentor placed it on the table before him gently, and sympathetically smile slightly, trying to sport some form of comfort. The older Korean didn't realise how much this was tearing his student up inside.

Hwoarang sat up, though was still slouched, and leant against the man he may as well have called his Father, "**…I don't know what to do…**"

"**Let me show you something. Stand up and follow me.**"

All forms of physical comfort left immediately. The Blood Talon hesitantly stood up and followed Doo San's lead, which led them into the bathroom. The harsh sting of the white lights burned his vision painfully, to the point where he couldn't see for a moment or two. He felt a hand push and adjust him to a certain position, and it was here, once his vision cleared, that he realised that he had been made to stand in front of the mirror.

"**What do you see?**" Baek asked.

"**Me,**" he answered simply, dejectedly.

The 48-year-old shook his head, "**No no, that's the obvious part. Think a bit deeper. What do you see?**"

He stood for a little longer, and although he looked a little harder, he didn't understand, "**I just see… me.**"

The tactics changed thereafter, trying to make it simpler, "**Okay, so you see you. Describe yourself to me.**"

_Where the hell is he going with this…? And how is this supposed to help me…? _He questioned inwardly.

"**Come on.**"

"**Um… Long red hair –**"

The 21-year-old was cut off before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, "**You like your hair red, yes? That unusual, defiant, orangey-red colour. Like a setting sun. **_**But! **_**But, do you like it at this length?**"

"**No.**"

"**Then why do you keep it that way?**"

"**Razer likes it that way…**" He remarked, looking down at his feet.

"**And of your body? You didn't care what you looked like until you started to care about her.**"

"**I wanted to impress her,**" Hwoarang answered, looking to his left where the teacher stood.

Baek reached out a hand and grabbed the rocket pendant firmly. His other hand grabbed his student's left wrist and held his hand up in his line of sight, "**What do you carry with you everywhere? **_**Everywhere? **_**From a fight and to your bed. From a shower and to your general day. From the dojang, to the streets, and to the army. All the time, everywhere, wherever you go and whatever you do. You carry these with you, yes?**"

Sienna eyes drifted downward as the voice got stronger, "**You carry two things this woman has given you to every place you to go, and through everything you do. The rocket pendant from your youth, and the ring from your adulthood. Two things you treasure so much, that you **_**refuse **_**to let them out of your sight. And why? Because the person who gave them to you is so damn special to you. You don't **_**want **_**to let them go. They mean so God damn much to you, just like the person.**"

The Blood Talon miserably sighed, now looking at his feet once again.

The items were released. A warm hand touched his shoulder again, this time making him turn so his back was to the mirror, "**And this? What is this, Hwoarang? Why did you get this spontaneous tattoo? What does it mean to you? Who did you get it for?**"

He looked over his shoulder, "**She said… that I'm her angel… But I have no wings to fly for her.**"

"**You got this **_**for her. **_**So you could fly **_**for her. **_**You went through all that pain, all that agony of having that needle inject ink into your skin, having the ink merge with your blood; to have a piece of her on you at all times. And unlike the necklace and the ring, you cannot take it off. You went through all that to permanently have something of her with you at all times. Something that **_**cannot be taken away.**_

"_**Everything **_**about you is for **_**her**_**! Not for Miharu, not for any of those other girls prancing around out there… For **_**Razer. **_**Everything**** you are is because of her. Everything you did is because of her. The person you are today, both on the outside and the inside, is because of that lost little girl that you lifted onto your back and carried back home.**

"**And you sit in there now, on that squeaky chair, still tasting her on your lips. You're miserable and confused, wondering who to 'choose', and what to do. With all of this information, I would've thought you would know **_**exactly **_**what to do.**"

The younger Korean's face heated up a little at the notion that he had been seen earlier, but despite that, he could not hide the smile blaring on his features. He was right. It's just… he couldn't see it, for whatever reason. Stress, consideration, whatever. He was blind to the truth. It was as though his eyes had been covered by a hand.

"**Thank you… Dad,**" He stated softly, still rooted to the spot.

It took a moment for Baek to recover from his statement. He smiled and replied in the same manner, "**Go do what you have to do, son.**"

Taking that as a dismissal, he speedily slipped into the other room, hurriedly slipping on the shirt he had carelessly tossed aside. He then moved back to the table, grabbing his goggles, carefully putting them on and adjusting them, having them pushing his hair back. With a light sigh, he turned, heading back to the door to leave, before stopping and gazing at the notebook once again.

Another thing to add to the list.

Pen in hand, he scribbled down the new dot point quickly, before dumping the pen on the table and running out.

Baek, who had been standing between the rooms, stepped out, grinning pleasantly. Although his student was now an adult, he was still the same little boy he raised from all those years ago. The same smile, the same insecurities, the same mannerisms, the same downcast expression when he was feeling down, and so on.

Curious as to what the youth was trying to do earlier, the Tae Kwon Do teacher strolled over towards the table. He placed a hand on the notebook, which was still on the same page as earlier, and span it around so he could read it for himself. He didn't mean to pry, but his curiosity was too strong for his own good. He wanted to see this method.

His eyes scrolled down both Hangul columns, and he couldn't suppress a smirk.

'_My world.'_

* * *

The youth had run to her door and knocked at it, hoping she'd be there. After a few impatient seconds, he knocked again, but heard nothing stir on the other side. Biting his lip, he put his hand on the doorknob and turned it, sticking his head inside the room. To his surprise, there was nobody inside.

He closed the door and turned away, sprinting down the stairs until he was back in the foyer. His sienna eyes scanned the place quickly. In the waiting area, he saw King and Marduk having a friendly chat. The receptionist was being chatted up by Paul. Lili and her butler were waiting behind him, the former screaming at the American to hurry up.

On the move again, he ran to the front door and pushed it open, sending a ditzy Anna in a little tail spin. He stopped for a moment and quirked his eyebrow at her ruffled, slightly charred and torn suit-like attire, "The hell happened to you? Did you blow something up recently?"

"Well, Steve did, I was just there helping him out," Williams remarked, frowning at the state of her gloves. She looked back up, biting her lip with a light smile, "He settled a score with the Zaibatsu by destroying the Research Wing."

"So that's where he went."

"Yeah. He's looking for Christie right now. And as for me, I'll be off."

She turned and left, and as she did, Hwoarang ran outside and looked to where he and his best friend had been previously. It hadn't been that long since he left, so maybe, just maybe, she was still there. But… she wasn't. She had gone off, somewhere. He wondered for a long moment, as he stared into space blankly, exactly _where _that girl could've gone. He hadn't even noticed that it had stopped raining.

His phone buzzed in his front pocket. Jumping and leaning against the door, he withdrew it and saw a text from Seong-Hada:

'_ur a fuckin dick. u've srsly upset her.'_

He replied:

'_she's with u? where r u?'_

'_not telling. go sit in ur room & think about what u've done.'_

'_i did.'_

'_then think sum more.'_

Knowing he wasn't going to get anything more out of the 19-year-old, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned away from the outside, about to enter the hotel once more. However, when someone called his name, he turned back, seeing Miharu wave at him. He bit the inside of his cheek before complying, taking small steps towards where she stood, in the middle of the pathway.

_I guess this is it… _

_Sometimes, to be kind, you have to be cruel._

_But I don't want to be cruel, _Hwoarang responded to the 'voice'.

_Then think of it as selfishness. _

_But…_

_You know you are doing this for her own good. You don't want Miharu to suffer anymore. _

…_True._

_Good luck, Hwoarang. Brace yourself._

_Thanks. But… I've been meaning to ask… Who are you?_

_You will find out one day._

He strained to 'hear' her say something else, but was met with nothing. It was here that he realised Miharu was now standing before him, looking up at him with a pretty smile. Her favourite purple dress moved freely in the light breeze, as did her auburn hair. Still, despite the cold weather, she appeared to be alright. No gloves, scarves or stockings anywhere. Though, standing here, like this, he just wanted to turn away. But he couldn't… He was too far away to come back. Just like with his feelings for the Greek woman.

She greeted him with wide smile, a hug, a kiss on the cheek and a soft 'hello'. The Blood Talon returned such affections, but then drew back, looking at her directly with sad eyes. Hirano suddenly felt small as she looked back at him. She spoke, though her voice came out nothing more than a curious and tiny squeak, "…What?"

"I'm sorry."


	38. Someone Wake Me Up

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Someone Wake Me Up**_

Miharu's head continued to spin well into the next day. With one leg crossed over the other, she stared down at her coke, idly spinning the straw in the glass with one finger, watching the liquid swirl as well. Her white mittens were next to it, proving to be more of an annoying feature in grasping earlier, than a helping one.

"_Why are you sorry…?" She inquired._

"_I…" The words he was going to say died in the back of his throat. He breathed in harshly and tried again, only to fail. With a frustrated sigh, he put one hand on his hip, and had his other hand's fingers run through his hair. He bit his lip, wondering how to say what he was trying to say._

_For some reason, she thought she already knew._

"…**and I'm thinking, maybe if I do my hair up…**"

"_Man, I've never been good with stuff like this."_

_Miharu smiled a little, still waiting. She watched as his gaze went everywhere but to her, still trying to piece the sentence together. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his sienna eyes bore nothing but sadness. She touched his arm gently, and let it slide down until her hand was holding his._

_Hwoarang watched that display and smiled whole-heartedly, squeezing her hand lightly. It was funny to see three emotions on his face at once – frustration, sadness, and happiness. He took a deep breath in and spoke quietly, now looking at his shoes with strong apprehension, "I think… you should find someone else."_

"…**fingernails too, and wear this dress, it'll look great!**"

_She chuckled a little, still looking at him forlornly, though he was not looking back, "You're breaking up with me."_

"_I'm sorry, Mi. I really am. I just… can't do this."_

"_It's okay, you doof. I came to do the same thing," She remarked, lacing their fingers together, "I watched you look after Raze over the last couple of weeks… And it was made apparent to me that although you do care about me, you can't tear yourself away from her. From your dream. I don't want to keep you from your dream. And if your dream is her, then go for it. I'll be behind you one hundred percent. But don't let her get away from you this time, alright?"_

_The Blood Talon smiled again and nodded, letting to of her hand. He gently pulled her into a hug, and was hugged in return._

"_I really thought… that I could make this work."_

"_So did I…"_

_She closed her eyes and sighed, holding him tighter, taking in his warmth and the feel of his arms around her._

"_**Miharu, **_**wake up!**"

She jumped a little in her seat when her hair was viciously tugged at. The Japanese girl winced and put a hand to the roots, patting them to relieve the ache. She furrowed her thin eyebrows and looked to her left, where Xiaoyu sat, arms folded across her chest, looking cross, "**What?**"

"**You didn't listen to a **_**word **_**I said!**" she cried, exasperated. She stuck out her bottom lip in a teasing pout and continued, "**How could you?! Without your input, I'm never going to be anything but 'cute' to every damn male within a hundred metre radius!**"

"**Radius? Xiao, you've been paying attention in Maths! I'm proud.**"

"**Stop trying to change the subject from something pleasant to something horrible.**"

"**Literature as well!**"

Ling grinned. Soon enough though, it faded away when Hirano looked at her coke dejectedly once more. She rested her folded arms on the table, shivering a little when her skin came into contact with the cold surface, and spoke firmly, "**Alright Mi, something's up. Come. Tell your best friend what's on your mind. It'll make you feel better, I promise.**"

So she told the Chinese fighter everything there was to tell, and by the end she was fighting back the tears forming in her eyes. There was no use pretending that she wasn't upset about it, and there was no use in pretending that he wasn't upset about it either. When she looked away from the coke (that had finally been touched) and to her friend, there was a mixture of anger and sadness on her visage.

"**The little… He left you for another woman,**" Xiaoyu growled.

She shrugged, taking another sip of her coke, "**It was bound to happen. We both tried to make it work, and it just didn't end up happening, that's all. Stuff like this happens every day Xiao, and while I'm hurt, I'll build a bridge and get over it. So will he. And besides, I was tired of being second best. I thought I could wait forever… but… I can't.**"

"_I'm not good enough for you."_

"**You know what you should do?**" she crowed happily, standing up, grabbing her shopping bags. Her voice shattered that little hearbroken sentence from her head. She could no longer hear Hwoarang whisper that to her. Now, all she could hear was Ling's hyperactive screeching, "**Any photos you have of you and him, you should burn them up. He's not worthy to be in your awesome photo album.**"

Hirano shook her head and smiled, her voice laced with light laughter, "**You're silly, you know that?**"

"**Always! Come on, let's go back to the hotel. I need to dump all this crap in my room and help Jin train for the finals.**"

* * *

His heel collided with the top of the punching bag, and slid down the object thereafter. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kicked it once more, with the other foot, the top of his shoe sending the item flying into the air, only to be brought back down due to the chain. Before it had the chance to come all the way down, he slammed his fists into it through his Double Chamber Punch attack.

Jin's concentration was broken when he saw his opponent enter the gym, stretching his arms behind his head. Such an action had caused the shirt of his dobuk to rise, and judging by the face he was making, it must've felt uncomfortable. That, or Seong-Hada's chatting was frustrating him. He was slightly surprised by the absence of Razer, but nonetheless, knew that she would probably arrive with Baek some time soon.

Hwoarang looked around for a corner to train. When his eyes landed on Kazama, they narrowed dangerously. The younger Korean noticed this, and pushed his Gang Leader along, but not without shooting a friendly smile and wave at him. Kazama returned it lightly, before focusing his attention back on the punching bag before him.

The devil within chuckled heartily, Oh, does he want to murder you. Highly amusing.

He groaned and slammed his right fist into the object before him, then his left, _Leave me be, monster._

The only monster here is you, Jin Kazama. And don't you forget it!

He squeezed his eyes shut and continued to attack the punching bag with force. None of his attacks missed the target, despite the fact that he could not see it, _You torment me day in and day out. My defences grow weaker and weaker against you. It is only a matter of time before I crack once more, and this time I may not be able to compose myself. Can you not leave me time to mend and face you in a better battle later…?_

In case you have not noticed, fool, I am a _demon. _I will take the best opportunities I can get… this being one of them.

He groaned in frustration and slammed his foot into the punching bag angrily, teeth grinding over the tops of one another. The force of the attack sent the item in a little flying spin, before coming back, wanting revenge on the human. Instead of that though, another attack came its way, and another and another. Fist and foot prints were left in the formation of the object.

The relentless chain eventually ceased when he walked away, going to grab a drink of water. The liquid was cool and refreshing sliding down his throat. He cleared his bag off the seat, placing it by his feet on the floor, and sat, resting his elbows on his knees, taking deep breaths in and out. He had been training for a while, and was tired.

Loud creaking got his attention. Jin lifted his head, looking towards the entrance, and saw both the teacher and his other student, carrying in some equipment, primarily boards. Razer's face was blank, like he remembered it when they first met in the streets. However, now knowing her, it appeared that she was most probably thinking. Baek behind her didn't notice, and was chatting away.

He noticed her pace slow a little and her eyes widen slightly when she spotted Hwoarang. Kazama wondered for a long moment why she had suddenly acted in such a manner, and tried to think nothing of it. His curiosity, combined with the devil within's though, saw to it that he continued to think on it.

A happy Korean greeting spread forth from the other corner of the gym, presumably from Seong-Hada. The 21-year-old smiled a little, standing. Since he had first seen the youngest of them, there was something about his personality that cheered him up, like Xiaoyu managed to do so many times throughout his life. There was just a general happy vibe around him that picked up the spirits of those around him as well, however far away from the source they may be. Through the darkest times, that young man can still keep a smile on his face.

Baek dumped the equipment on the floor and looked up to his oldest student with a crooked grin, "Board work."

Hwoarang squealed like a little child, muttering 'yes' a thousand times under his breath in hyperactive joy. Board work. Breaking boards with his hands and feet. His childhood favourite method of training. He hadn't broken proper training boards in _ages, _and just seeing his teacher and best friend enter with a lot of them indicated to him that he was going to have a very fun time.

He jumped up, followed his mentor away from the corner, and started going through the usual stretches. This left Razer and Seong-Hada alone. The Greek came and sat beside her young friend, "Thanks. For last night."

The 19-year-old had seen their little exchange, along with Baek, and quickly decided between themselves to talk to one of them each. Knowing that Doo San could handle Hwoarang much better than he ever could, SH tended to the girl who had fallen to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, muttering things that he couldn't quite hear.

He had taken her arm and picked her up and off the ground, talking to her softly about things that wouldn't remind her of what had happened only a few moments ago. He didn't quite understand why it had made her so upset, but it was eventually explained at the ice cream store many, many minutes later. It was the underlying meaning that had shattered her.

"He wants to be with me, and I him," she had murmured, "that kiss solidified it and reminded us. But… we can't. He's with Miharu and doesn't want to hurt her. It is unreasonable to drop someone like her for someone like me. And I… still carry very strong feelings for Jin, and he is aware of that too. He doesn't want to put me in an uncomfortable position, amongst other things, but the thing is, I don't know what I want. I don't think he even knows that.

"The underlying meaning though… Seong-Hada, so long have we looked at one another and then look away. You've watched it yourself. And when we look back, we couldn't speak our feelings because we're either looking at another, or are with someone else. It's like a continuous game, and we're both sick of playing it… He knows how I feel now, and I him, because we finally spoke… It's just… the ball keeps eluding us."

"It's technically in his court now," Seong-Hada had replied, taking another lick from his ice cream, "I mean, think about it. You're up for grabs, and he's kinda going 'oh my God what the fuck bbq what do I do what do I do what do I do' while holding onto Miharu's arm, to fulfil a promise he apparently made at the last tourney. So he's up with a choice – go for the girl he's wanted for so damn long, or see what he can do with this sweet Japanese girl. It's his decision. Hold onto Miharu, or jump at you. The ball is in his court. Simple. Let him play the game."

A soft voice stirred him, "Hey…?"

Drifting back from the memories, the Korean patted his friend's head childishly with a smile, "Any time, Raze."

The moments that had passed by were a lot longer than either realised. Baek called out for a third time, "Hey! Wake up you two!"

Both jumped a little and looked back at them, seeing Doo San and Hwoarang looking back, the latter more with a slight day-dreaming state. Razer straightened up and cleared her throat, trying tried to maintain a blank face, "Yes, Baek?"

"I need you two to help me with the board work. Just grab a couple and hold them out in a line for Hwoarang to kick. Make sure you're spaced out, and watch your fingers."

The two younger people noticed their fellow student rub his hands together evilly in anticipation, still a hyperactive ball. Eventually, Hwoarang stopped such imitating actions and began to roll his shoulders, hoping to relieve any built up tension. He didn't sleep very well, and woke up in quite an unusual position, with half his upper body falling out of the bed painfully.

He woke from his thoughts when Doo San instructed him to perform his spinning kicks down the line, until the three boards being held out facing him were destroyed. With a stiff bow, he slid into stance, and began the attacks quickly, all three boards snapping to three different roundhouse kicks. Once he satisfyingly heard the halves hit the wooden floor, he slipped out of his stance and looked over his shoulder, noticing SH violently shake his right hand, which was the hand that previously held the board.

"Can't you watch where you kick?!" Seong-Hada growled, upset, trying to shake the ache from his hand.

The Blood Talon laughed, "I'm sorry."

"Set them for axe kicks," Baek remarked, the boards now flatly facing the ceiling.

The 21-year-old went through the new boards again, a little slower than last time because threre weren't as much momentum in these kicks compared to the roundhouse kicks. Now back at the other end of the line, he pulled his left leg up and behind him with his hand, stretching the knee that was beginning to ache slightly. Damn Kazuya and his match against him in the 4th Tournament…

Forty-five minutes went by before Doo San allowed his student to go for a break. With a respective bow, he tottered over towards the seats, where his two friends had been sitting before hand, and raided his bag for his drink and towel. He found the both of them, and drank some water whilst wiping the sweat off of him at the same time.

While Baek was preoccupied with answering SH's questions, Razer tentatively followed Hwoarang with feather light footsteps. She stopped when he did, and remained standing quietly, obvlivious to the quick glances derived from the other two. It was when this Korean spoke to her directly did she realise that he had known all along, "What's up with you?"

"Just… drifting from here to there."

"Then wake up. You're acting like a robot."

"It is hard to."

"Well, maybe you just need someone to wake you up."

She quirked an eyebrow at her best friend as he span around, "What do you mean?"

"Dunno. Was supposed to be a come back, but its underlying and endless perverted intention obviously didn't click in your head," he shrugged and sat down, clearing his bag so she could sit next to him. He leant forward, arms resting on his legs, and took another gulp of precious, precious water.

It took her a moment to register it, and in response, she shoved him, "Asshole."

He smiled, closing up the bottle, and placed it back in the bag, along with the towel, "That's news to you?"

Athane shook her head and looked down at her hands, which were clasped toegher and placed in her lap. She stood up straight and pressed her feet together, barely seeing them below the flow of the white dress. The air between them was still tense, and both were unsure of how to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry about last night," Hwoarang murmured, leaning back against the wall, hands behind his head.

"Don't be."

"But –"

"Shut up," she hissed at him uncharacteristically, fidgeting in her seat, "What's happened has happened."

Perplexed and surprised, he blinked several times, cautiously speaking, "Is something else wrong?"

"…Dreams again."

He remained silent, now leaning forward instead of back, and still looking at her with concern.

"I'm… I'm scared. This is occurring too frequently for it to be 'just a dream' anymore. The details are too vivid. They are too realistic. Like a prediction. I don't know what is going on but… I do not like it… I can hear screaming. Angry yelling. Crying. Whimpering. But I _still can't see anything…_"

The Blood Talon gently spoke, "Try not to think on it. They're not gonna do you any good."

I think they're telling you something, the corrupt angel within sounded firmly, It would be wise to take heed of the dreams, because sooner or later you may find yourself in that compromising situation.

Razer was a little stunned by the help and the previous silence of the entity. Since the 'treatment' she had been withering away into the background, and her nastiness had slowly plummeted. If she strained to listen, it was almost as though the thing's voice had changed as well. It was not as spiteful, and almost kind. Perhaps the corrupt angel was not corrupt anymore. She wanted to see Raven about it, and soon.

Waking from her thoughts, the 20-year-old looked back at him, "It is hard not to when I hear a man crying out in attack, and the roar of flames and the swipe of claws. _I can hear _most things, except for names, and I can't exactly distinguish between the voices yet, aside from my own… but… I cannot see what happens, aside from the things I have described to you earlier, like blood, the ground, and so on. I just wish to know why I am I blinded... I want to see. I want someone to wake me up in that dream, or clear my vision, so I can see. I want to see. I cannot walk around blinded anymore."

They sat there in silence, trying to think of something else to say to either shed light on the situation or close the topic. Both came up with no ideas, but were given a distraction when loud, young girls entered the gym, waking everyone from their private thoughts, conversations and so on.

Xiaoyu and Miharu.

The former of the two young girls waved erratically at whoever was at the other side of the gym, also in the back corner. She sprinted over in a hurried rush, her school uniform moving in the speed, oblivious to the murderous glares given to her by some other participants (such as Marduk and Paul) and the laughter of her Japanese buddy.

As the auburn-haired youth followed the Chinese martial artist, she looked around the place curiously, her eyes wandering over various other competitors. They eventually settled on the pair in the corner, and with a wide, wide smile, she waved enthusiastically at her ex-boyfriend, who was in the company of his best friend. The smile only widened when he returned the grin and wave.

"Why don't you go over to your girlfriend?" Razer pressed, a tad curious as to why he didn't move, like other times.

"We're… not together anymore," He replied, now looking at his feet and leaning back once more.

"Oh… When did that happen?"

"Last night. She had come to me to break us up, and I had the same intentions. We both kinda agreed that we gave it our best shot and had some fun, but decided it'd be best to stay as friends. It was mutual and we're both okay."

Athane nodded shortly, twisting the dress in her hand. The fact that he mentioned that she had come to do the same thing indicated to her that Hirano didn't know about what happened last night, which saved her and the Korean beside her a lot of trouble, explanations, slaps and bitch fights. That fact in itself had the unhappy emotions in her stomach untwist a little.

"So, uh… I was wondering…" Hwoarang began nervously, looking at her, "Maybe you'd wanna…?"

_Be. With. Me. Now._

He mentally yelled at himself in anxiety. The words had sounded so strong and firm in his head, and when they came out of his mouth, they just crumbled. He couldn't even finish the sentence. The measly. Fucking. Sentence. That he had constructed from scratch over the last few hours, few months, few years. He couldn't even finish, and he felt slightly sickened by it.

The Blood Talon bounced his leg tenaciously, clearly edgy about her response. His fingers tightly gripped the wooden bench, almost turning white because of the strength. He tried to calm himself by reminding himself that irregardless of the answer, they'd still be best friends with an endless amount of love for each other. And in the end, that was all that truly mattered. He had nothing to lose here.

Automatically jumping to the negative response due to her silence, he spoke quietly, "Its okay. I understa –"

"I don't know what I want, Hwo," she replied, "I thought it was obvious to you."

He noticed the strain in her response and said nothing, waiting for her to continue talking, if there was more to come.

Razer timidly placed her right hand over his left one and attempted to explain the chaos going on in her mind, "I… _do… _want to be with you. Know that. I just… feel like… When I look at you, it feels like I'm betraying Jin. And when I look at Jin, it feels like I'm betraying you. Like I have an _obligation _to you. To both of you, and I just end up feeling so guilty… It is a very uncomfortable situation to be in. I do not know if you felt it too when you were with Miharu, but… it is difficult. One minute I feel like throwing myself at one of you, but then there's a voice in the back of my head reminding me of how much I love the other, and why, and I remember everything the guy in question and I have been through, and then I just…"

A squeeze to her hand stopped her from nearly incoherent rambling. Athane looked at their hands and sighed in frustration. The Korean spoke, still watching her intently and caringly through his sienna eyes, "It must be confusing for you."

Storm Wind nodded lightly and looked at him, trying to smile through the uncertainty.

Hwoarang leant back a little and lifted his head up, thinking, "Hmm… Well… I don't really know what to say for advice right now. I can't exactly think of anything on the spot. I'm not _that_ awesome…" The joke had the smile spread a little, he noticed, looking back at her, "I guess… Just… As cheesy as it sounds, do what your heart tells you. Like I'm about to."

With the warning out in the air, the 21-year-old leant forward and kissed her firmly, for a much shorter time than last night's spontaneous action. And just for those tiny seconds, those few precious seconds, she responded kindly; smiling into it, stroking his hand with her thumb demurely. He pulled away thereafter, grinning back, before patting her hand with his other free one.

"Get that nice body back to toning up," Athane remarked teasingly.

He answered immediately, standing up, walking away from her backwards, "Yes Miss 'I-Have-Great-Tits'."

She shot him an irate and dangerous glare and covered aforementioned area with both her arms, inwardly smiling at his laughter; and watched as he span around and lumbered back towards the other two Koreans, much happier and calmer than he had been before going on his break. Once he was out of sight, she dropped her arms and stood up too, going out into the open a little more.

Curious as to where Xiaoyu and Miharu (and now Asuka as well) were going to, she peered towards the other corner, and smiled uncontrollably, seeing Jin. He looked troubled, but he was trying to smile, and that meant a lot to her. She inwardly and silently thanked the three girls for being there and keeping him in a stable and happy-ish state, because she was sure that despite her attempts, he wouldn't accept her comfort.

There is only one way to find out. Why don't you go over? I doubt it would hurt, and I am sure he wants to know how you are since your fight with him. He did see you come in, you know, and is contemplating going over to see you. He is just very, _very_ wary of Hwo at the moment. Go on, go say hi, if only to acknowledge his presence.

The Greek took to the entity's idea to heart and walked over, hands behind her back, unaware of Hwoarang watching her go with a light smile. She breathed in and out at a firm and even pace, trying to not get so nervous. The steps soon began to catch up on her, and she was eventually standing nearby.

His cousin poked him a couple of times on his shoulder in rapid succession, and then pointed over his shoulder. Asuka's face was a mixture of worry and surprise, though which emotion was higher, the hybrid martial artist didn't know. Xiao and Mi waved at her when they eventually noticed. She stopped walking, about four or five steps away from the group, and smiled when looked over his shoulder and turned around wholly, clearly surprised by her presence.

"Hi Jin."

"Hello…"

There was more silence. It was thick in the air and intimidating to all four fighters. Everyone was unsure of what was going to transpire. Most of all, though, Ling and Hirano, who had known the two for the longest, were crossing their fingers behind their back, privately praying that they'd both wake up to themselves and get over their whole 'demon this, angel that, I have to stay away from you so you'll be okay' crap that had been going on for far too long.

"Nice dress," Kazama remarked eventually, grinning, adding mentally, _'It looks gorgeous.'_

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly, inwardly spinning in bliss.

Finally, their bridge had mended.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The end is coming. Three more chapters. And I warn you now, the next chapter has EXACTLY _ten thousand words_ (it's over nine thousaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand again XD, and it took three days o.o lawl). And so you know what you're in for, here is a preview of the monster _**chapter thirty-nine: "Pain Redefined". **_-grins-

* * *

_She could feel the corrupt angel within begin to panic, as indicated by her trembling body and the constant nagging in the back of her mind to turn around and get the hell out. But no. Not this time. She wouldn't, she couldn't, and she refused._

_Turn back. Don't do this to me Raze, turn back! _Turn back_!!_

**…**

_Xiaoyu furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her bubblegum pink phone, along with Miharu and Seong-Hada, in complete and utter confusion, "Locked down? What do you mean it's locked down? We can't get back in? What's going on over there?"_

**…**

_Their fists clenched reflexively, both ready to go. After so long, their rematch had finally arrived._

"_Final round of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5. Number 15 v.s. number 23. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"_

**…**

"_I will be able to fight. I can help them. And I highly doubt that an angel will let the weakness hold me."_

_The man's eyebrows furrowed. She made a good point. That could be possible._

"_Please… Help me help them. Help me stop what you _know_ will destroy them!"_

**…**

"_He's coming, he's coming. I can smell him, oh God oh God oh God…"_

_Meet your maker, boy._

**…**

_Seong-Hada phased out, not hearing the three women debate amongst themselves in regards to what Hwoarang's mysterious rambling was about. He slowly inched his head down until he was looking at the phone in his hand, seeing the most recent call on his list gaze up at him in return. He breathed in, bit his lip and stared up at the dark sky worriedly._

**…**

_Spinning High Kick._

_A 'shame' that _you_ will _die_…_

_Spinning Flare Kick._

_…and I…_

_Corpse Thrust._

…will live.

**…**

_There before her, pain had been redefined._

"NO_!!!"_


	39. Pain Redefined

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

Author's Note: Time to strap yourself in and FEEL THE TEN THOUSAND WORDS!! My Beta had to take a break in reading this because it was so long, lol. So I guess you guys should too. Unless you wanna keep reading. XD And yet another 'warning' from two people:

"_Though I'm not a massive fan of Tekken, this chapter was seriously impressive regardless. I prefer the other one where Devil Jin fights 'Devil' Razer, but this one's content is as good as that, if not better. Great work, especially near the end." – _My Beta

"_Fuck you and your awesome writing. You know I don't like reading, but I couldn't put this epic-ness down. Again. QQ." _– My boyfriend

Enjoy. _–pleased, evil grin-_

_**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Pain Redefined**_

The grey day dragged on, the simple hours feeling like an eternity. So much tension had built up on all sides, and through everyone. Even the media leeched off this, with headlines blaring everywhere how the rightful heir to the Mishima Zaibatsu was up against a street punk. How a man of a high and respected lineage was against a representative of society's lowest point. How the champion was defending his title against a reckless challenger.

They had even spoken to a majority of the contestants, asking them who they thought would win the battle. It was divided down the middle, some pinning their support behind Jin, and others believing that Hwoarang would be able to take the title with ease. However, when they asked the circle of friends that knew the two best, there was hesitance in answering.

Razer was glad to have avoided another gathering as she walked to a desolate location that she had only been to two times before. Apparently at the last two tournaments, the media had indeed noticed her closeness to both finals participants. When she had first arrived in the 3rd Tournament, they had apparently linked her up romantically with Hwoarang immediately, unknown to her, and others to Jin later. It was like a stupid pairing war. She wondered about who the others were 'paired' with in the media's eyes, and also if they had any stupid names.

Her fist firmly knocked against the metal door of Raven's ship. The action caused a slight reverb, and a dull ache on her flesh. Soon enough though, she heard the man's gruff, undeniable voice buzz in over the intercom nearby, "You have ten seconds to identify yourself and your purpose, or you will be shot to death. We are armed."

"Raven, it's Razer," she said firmly, tugging at the long sleeves of her light blue shirt, looking down, taking a deep breath in.

The doors opened with an unsettling hiss, and she walked inside, boots echoing over the metal floors. It later closed behind her, leaving her with no exit. She could feel the corrupt angel within begin to panic, as indicated by her trembling body and the constant nagging in the back of her mind to turn around and get the hell out. But no. Not this time. She wouldn't, she couldn't, and she refused.

Turn back. Don't do this to me Raze, turn back! _Turn back!!_

It was time to say goodbye, about to take her last dance with the 'devil' tonight.

* * *

Alarm clutched him in the chest. The Japanese man undid the zipper on his jacket a little, hoping to alleviate it, but it failed. Agitated, he continued to pace around Ground Zero, ignoring how the entire area only seemed to depress him further. The area had once been a town, or it seemed that way, only it had now been completely levelled to the ground. His superior scent senses could still detect the withering smoke from however long ago.

Jin breathed in and out firmly again. This was it. The evil he had been sensing for the whole tournament was going to arise here, and it was here that he had to make his stand, with or without people's assistance. His great grandfather had to be stopped here, regardless of the cost. He could not be allowed to germinate into another devil, and wreak havoc across the world, bringing armegeddon far too early.

The corrupt angel… She is jumpy and frightened. Very frightened. Can you feel it? Can you feel her aberrantly screaming? This is not good, not good at all. Something's going to happen to her, and it will not bode well for us. I wonder what will happen, and how that will affect us… 

He stopped pacing around, _I hope whatever happens, happens… It is beneficial for everyone._

Beneficial? More like _destructive._

_Do not be so selfish, Devil. It will be destructive for you, yes; and then I might be freed, if I am lucky._

Dirt moved beneath another person's feet. He jumped and closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling he got from the person as they approached. After a few moments, he deemed it to be a burning flame, as opposed to a black hand of death, and opened his chocolate eyes to see Hwoarang drawing closer and closer towards him with tantalisingly slow steps.

His red hair was tamed by his trusty goggles, which were happily nestled at the top of his head, briefly glistening with pride; with thanks to the brief peek of sunlight from behind the grey clouds. His sienna eyes were dangerously narrowed, projecting anger and hate at the 21-year-old standing opposite him. His lips were mostly firm, though of Kazama squinted, he could see one of the corners slightly upturned in a smirk for his long-awaited revenge. The martial artist was in his normal clothes, from the unique jeans to the orange and green shirt, which was open a fraction more than usual. Just below his collarbone was silver jewellery, resting proudly against his skin, undoubtedly representing the reason he fought.

Jin turned wholly, no longer standing sideways to the Korean. He wore an iron mask, trying to mask his worry for their safety, and his unwillingness to fight. But now he had no choice. The Blood Talon was finally getting what he wanted, after roughly two years of waiting for it. It was now in his grasp, and about to start with the clash of fists and feet.

"Hey Kazama, looks like this is it."

He nodded, feet still firmly planted on the ground, "Yes. It has been so long since we fought each other like this. Proper rivals are not supposed to help one another, hm? Rather, they are supposed to see to it that they are always the superior victor, and that their opponent lies broken and bleeding on the ground."

"Guess which one you'll be," Hwoarang drawled angrily, stretching his arm across his body in wanton anticipation.

"I didn't mean for it to happen… You know that…"

"I don't care, Kazama. You caused incredible amounts of pain to the most influential person in my life. _My world. _You let Devil fucking take control of you, and beat her to a bloody pulp. _You almost killed her, _and I will _not _forgive you for committing such a thing. If you loved her like you say you do, you wouldn't have even showed up to the match as a precaution to make sure that he didn't get to her. I guess that shows how much you _really _care."

"He was far too strong in that instance. I was overpowered… a-and I couldn't do anything…"

"Just goes to show what a weak little shit you are."

Jin tried hard to ignore Devil's bellowing guffaws and stinging insults.

The referee finally stumbled up towards the two of them, watching them both automatically slip into stance at his approach. He looked between the two tense balls of raging testosterone, and cleared his throat, "There are no cameras in the area advertising the fight, as requested by the CEO of the Zaibatsu, so this is a private match. Judging by the emptiness of the match, I take it no one is going to come as you have requested it. Best of luck to the both of you gentlemen, this is your last fight."

Their fists clenched reflexively, both ready to go. After so long, their rematch had finally arrived.

"Final round of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5. Number 15 v.s. number 23. 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"

Both participants set off with a right axe kick, which clipped each of them on the shoulder. From there, Hwoarang launched into a left Nose Bleeder kick, not allowing the satisfying surge to ripple through him as the foot smashed across his foe's face. As Jin stumbled back, he hacked at his shins for a few moments with the spurs of his boots, before conducting Cheap Snap Shot Kick, the attack squarely hitting his slightly larger opponent in the chest.

The Blood Talon approached again, only to be met with a swift punch to the stomach, winding him. He buckled over, holding the area, gritting his teeth, trying not to show weakness. Though the blow had not connected with his ribs, which Kazuya had damaged earlier in the tournament, they still screamed angrily, shaken up. He was given little time to recover, and before he knew it, he was up in the air lightly, with thanks to the Double Lift Kicks.

Two punches came his way, getting him in the thighs. Another axe kick followed thereafter, slamming into his side, sending him straight into the ground. His back stung after collision, and before he could be attacked on the ground, rolled out of the way, jumping straight to his feet. It was during his sudden spring did he lash out is right leg, hitting his fellow 21-year-old in the face.

It served well as a distraction, giving the Korean enough time to side step and grab Jin's right arm. With a firm kick to his side, he redirected his left foot to his head, kicking it, pushing harshly, hearing the neck crack unhappily, and the body fall to an agonising heap. He wasn't dead, just in a lot of pain. Hwoarang decided to add to the pain by slamming his boot into the man's stomach, thereafter repeating the action on his muscled back.

He moved to repeat the last attack, but his leg was grabbed by the Japanese youth. His fingers harshly in and around the ankle, the pressure almost enough to bruise, and quickly, he threw his fellow Asian off balance, standing as he fell so he wouldn't be the victim of anymore ground attacks. He could certainly see why Hwoarang enjoyed attacking his opponents whilst they were on the ground. The solid land below the body added more impact to the attack.

Grunting, his adversary jumped up, lashing out a Scorpion Kick again, thereafter rolling into two swift Viper Kicks. Jin's arm, the area that had been hit, ached painfully; and with his other one, enclosed his hand around the slimmer bicep. He forcefully made the other arm function to grab the other man's forearm, bend it at the elbow, pinning it behind his back, and threw him over his shoulder.

The impact shook the leaner man's ribs again. Hwoarang stood shakily, sliding his right hand to the area in question, pushing against it, trying to relieve the pain. He breathed in firmly, trying to shove the pain down, and looked at Kazama through narrow eyes. His lips were pressed together in an angry and firm line, the colour almost white due to the force.

_I'm doing this for her, _he reminded himself firmly, standing taller, slipping back into Left Stance, bouncing back and forth on his feet. He felt the ring resist force under his clenching gloves, and the rocket pendant slide across his heated skin constantly, _This is for her future. For a new life._

He pushed aside questioning where she was and threw himself into three continuous roundhouse kicks.

* * *

Raven stroked his chin, his head tilted back, dark brown, almost black eyes, observing the Greek sitting in the chair nearby. Eagle and Crane stood behind him, both with clipboards, writing at a million miles an hour. He looked over his shoulder for a brief moment before looking back, speaking strongly, "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I want the full cure, immediately."

No you don't. Stop lying, monster. You're nothing but a liar. Nope, we're as good as new. Come on, let's go.

"I believe the portion you have injected into me has made it to the halfway. Knowing you sneaky lot, you would have most probably kept a little more of the sample as a back up for further experimentation in case this did not work."

Crack open your beakers boys and girls, its time to find another way to _fail _in this 'experiment'.

"Turns out, it did."

No it didn't.

The final sentence of her little speech came out more forcefully than intended due to Razer's growing frustration at the corrupt angel within's tumultuous comments, "I want the cure injected into me, _now_."

"But why so urgent?" the special agent inquired.

"Raven, the evil… He's going to show up soon. It's not Kazuya, nor Heihachi like you thought. Jin and Hwoarang are fighting now, and they can't survive if he shows up whilst they are so weak from their bout. Now give me the fucking full cure so I can help them!" she pleaded, fidgeting due to the corrupt angel within. She was trying very hard to ignore the screaming, and was aware that she was attempting to contact Devil.

He hesitated for a good, long moment, looking back on Eagle and Crane, who were pondering the effects of the second injection. If they did give her what she wanted, she would just pass out again, like last time, and be a wasted strength. Where would be the victory in that? It was not gallantry, it was idiocy.

It was almost as though she had read his thought, or predicted it, "Think about it… The gene is half corrupt, half pure, and you inject another pure strain, it will boost the purer side and overthrow the corrupt one, erasing it from me. It won't be like throwing me in the deep end, like last time. I will not be as weak. I will be able to fight. I can help them. And I highly doubt that an angel will let the weakness hold me."

The man's eyebrows furrowed. She made a good point. That could be possible.

"Please… Help me help them. Help me stop what you _know _will destroy them."

Raven turned away, walking past his two comrades, "Prepare the injection."

* * *

The side of Hwoarang's foot smashed up against his opponent's jaw. Jin felt his teeth grind over one another forcefully, and stepped back as far as he could, caressing the wounded flesh with the back of his glove. His eyes narrowed dangerously, avoiding a punch to the chest and a kick to the side, gracefully weaving through them like a gazelle.

There was pure hatred buzzing between the two fighters. It was the old emotions that were so persistent in the previous two tournaments, yet crumbled under sympathy in this one. They had each tried to see something in the other one to make him more tolerable… But now, now all they remembered was what they _hated _about the other. The buzzing had reignited, and they easily mirrored glare for glare with punch for punch and kick for kick.

The Korean took a few steps forward and jumped into the air, ignoring the screaming pain of his ribs, and conducted Hunting Hawk, the first assault being blocked. He landed on his feet, one leg angled painfully on said landing, and quickly moved to continue his assault on the ground, hoping to inflict more damage.

Predicting this, Kazama jutted his leg out in a quick sweeping kick, knocking his opponent off balance, but not to the ground. He breathed in heavily, the sensation burning his lungs painfully and blissfully, returning the much needed revitalising oxygen to his quivering muscles. He could see Hwoarang do likewise, appreciating the slight break.

Thunder boomed overhead viciously, the lightning strikes crawling from above at a mesmerising and stuttered pace. Both contestants felt a light raindrop or two touch their scorching flesh, making them shiver a little due to the contrast. The wind that began to pick up was a nice change as well, cooling them off slightly.

The Blood Talon was about to slip back into stance, but stopped half way when he saw Jin half curl up in his standing position. He began to shake, and his breathing became ragged. If what he thought was coming next was about to arrive, then, well, bring it on. He had a lesson to teach Devil anyway, because _no one _hurt his best friend and gets away with it.

"Hwoarang, Hwoarang drop your stance, quickly," the 21-year-old stated, breathing in again.

"The fuck should I listen to you for?" he growled angrily.

The desperation in his voice was clear and firm, even as he looked up, quivering chocolate brown eyes piercing his very soul, laced with horror and terror, "Please, just do it. Don't be a bastard to me, just this once. He's coming, he's coming this way. Drop your stance before he sees you as an immediate threat and takes your knocks you out, or worse. You will be of no use unconscious. He's coming, he's coming. I can smell him, oh God oh God oh God…"

Meet your maker, boy.

"He's here! He's here, he's here…"

The referee's face slacked for a moment, before hardening up. He pointed to the approaching man, whose bulk in itself, especially for his age, was incredible. He pointed at him, clearly frustrated, "You are intruding on personal grounds! Remove yourself from the premises or be prosecuted!"

The man's laughter at the rehearsed statement boomed above the thunder, his giant fists visibly clenching dangerously despite his folded arms. The tiny man looked between the three fighters, and heavily contemplated upholding the rules or running for his life. He chose the latter, valuing it over the job given to him by the Zaibatsu. What he didn't understand was why the two competitors didn't run with him, though it was none of his business.

He radiated power, still approaching towards them. As he walked, he felt every grain move between his toes – something he had always enjoyed feeling since he was awakened from his long slumber. They were cold and weak, parting with ease like the red sea parted for Moses. He smirked lightly, seeing the clearly Japanese man take a step back warily. The redhead inched forward slightly, clearly curious yet unsure.

His ancient eyes roamed over his two competitors, taking them in for all they were worth. One was clearly strong, and resembled his beloved grandson Kazuya. He was very muscular, as further supported by the tight flamed jumpsuit attire. The one standing beside him was undoubtedly fast due to his lean physique, and though clearly Asian, had the defying red hair that reminded him of the arrogance of today's youth.

The bass voice struck, cutting through the silent air, "**I'm impressed that you've made it this far.**"

Jin's quivering increased, even as he squared his shoulders, stood taller and looked at his great grandfather in his ancient, yellow eyes. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Korean quirk his eyebrow at the Japanese statement. Poor guy, he had no idea what this Mishima was saying to them. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what Hwoarang's interpretation of the statement was.

"**I am Jinpachi Mishima,**" he stated calmly, now standing before the two tense males. He uncrossed his arms, and stretched his wrists freely, raising his arms without restriction. His composed voice escalated in volume and strayed from the calmness it once possessed; as the sentence continued onward, his tongue dancing upon the Japanese language with precision, "**My goal... My goal is to destroy all existence!**"

Kazama narrowed his eyes and growled under his breath as a bright purple light engulfed his ancestor. Hwoarang shielded his eyes from the show, turning his head away a little in frustration. Both could hear the flesh tearing apart, and sickening new features sprout forth from the mutating body, like a flower sprouting up from the dirt.

In the old man's place was a demon towering over the two tall men. His blood red eyes trailed over them, seeing how one was mildly shocked, and how the other's face hardened in determination. He narrowed his eyes and smirked a little, clenching his enormous fists, and still felt the grains stick under his feet and between his toes.

He opened his mouth and let the three syllable word rumble out, "_Sakujo._"

The Korean turned his head and looked to his rival, not understanding the word, "What's that mean?"

Jin quickly stood into stance, motioning for Hwoarang to do the same, "Annihilate."

With a mighty cry, Jinpachi hurled his left fist at the opponents running towards him in a leaping kick.

* * *

Steve, Christie, Eddy, Julia, Asuka and Baek paced around in the hotel, thinking on how the grand final was doing. They were on their way to see it, but were locked into the hotel, preventing anyone from exiting and seeing the fight. The receptionist had everyone present and accounted for, except for Raven, Razer Athane and Ling Xiaoyu, from the tournament side. As for visitors, the blue-haired boy that always hung out with them, and the 4th Tournament Participant Miharu Hirano were missing as well.

"Why did they have to put the hotel in lock down?" Julia asked, shaking her head. She took a seat in one of the chairs, and pulled her legs up to her chest. Her red glasses slipped down her nose lightly, and swiftly, she pushed them back up, before looking at the approaching 48-year-old man, "Baek, you have been to the 2nd Tournament… Did they ever do something like this then? What is going on?"

Doo San shook his head as well, scratching his chin, "They've never done something like this before. But if they've done something like this, and even kept in Kazuya and Heihachi, then it must be horrible. I just hope Hwoarang, Jin and the others are alright. Because think about it, if they've locked us in, _all of us, _without our knowledge until now, then it's to protect us. Therefore… the ones outside, they're unprotected."

Eddy cut in quickly, leaning against the wall nearby, crossing one strong leg over the other in a bored fashion, "What I want to know is what Xiaoyu, Miharu, Razer, Seong-Hada and Raven are doing outside. I doubt any of them had anything important to do today."

"I have no idea. I just hope they're all keeping out of trouble."

An idea popped up in Steve's head. He whipped out his phone and began to dial, thereafter pressing the item to his ear, still pacing around the foyer room with a light smile, "Maybe this way we can find out where they are. I'll dial Razer. Christie, ring Xiaoyu. Eddy, find Miharu. Jules, you call up Seong-Hada, if you have the number. Let's do this!"

* * *

It seemed as though hours had raged on for the two fighters, however it was nothing like that at all. Their bodies screamed in protest, saying that for them _it was _hours, not a measly twenty minutes. There were open wounds, drooling out blood from their arms and legs, and the occasional scratch on their head. Bruises were plentiful, and it hurt to move, though they knew they had to.

"How are you doing?" Jin inquired, seeing Hwoarang struggle to stand back up after being thrown down by Jinpachi. He raised his forearms, guarding against three firm punches that came his way, only to be knocked off his feet by a strong sweeping kick.

The continuous coughing fit was the Japanese youth's answer. He rolled out of the way of anymore low attacks and lifted his head, seeing his fellow 21-year-old standing on his feet, both hands once again firmly pressed to his wounded right side. He lumbered forward, still holding it firmly, and slammed his boot into the unknowing Jinpachi's side, smirking a little as the beast's face contorted in pain.

Taking this to his advantage, and taking into account Hwoarang having jumped a good distance back to avoid a counter attack, Kazama leapt up to his feet. He punched his great grandfather twice, conducted a left axe kick, before continuing on into Savage Sword, the final kick launching the bulk of muscle at the other fighter. As he thought, the Korean attacked back with a Spinning Left Axe kick, throwing the man into the ground. After a couple of quick attacks on the ground, he backed off, wary of a swipe at his legs.

Jin slammed his heel into Jinpachi's neck, but before he knew it, he had been grabbed by his leg and thrown away violently. He gritted his teeth, feeling his head slam into something firm, like a rock, and rolled over, trying to lift himself up with his arms, "Hwoarang… You can't keep doing this, you're still severely injured from your fights against Kazuya and Baek… Get out of here. Leave me to deal with my family problem alone."

The Mishima's laughter rang in his ears, as did a guttural whimper of pain. He looked past his ebony bangs, seeing the Blood Talon stumble back, gritting his teeth. It appeared his great grandfather had landed a square hit at the Korean's midsection, near the wound he was so, so carefully guarding.

"Even so, Kazama," he began, jumping to his feet, "you can't do it alone either. But you'd have a better chance than I would. I'm gonna go find Razer. She mentioned something about going to see Raven about the gene. Maybe she's going to go get cured or something, I don't know. She muttered it. Look, just see if you can hold him off. I'll try and be about ten, fifteen minutes, tops. You can do it."

With that, the 21-year-old nodded firmly to himself, and with one last glare at Jinpachi, turned away, beginning to run, ignoring the aches and pains of his body, hoping to God that he could find her, wherever she may be. Wherever she may be…

* * *

Xiaoyu furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her bubblegum pink phone, along with Miharu and Seong-Hada, in complete and utter confusion, "Locked down? What do you mean it's locked down? We can't get back in? What's going on over there?"

"We don't know," Christie replied, clearing her throat thereafter, "We've kinda asked the receptionist, and asked around, but we have no idea what's happening. Heihachi and Kazuya are confused as fuck as well, so it can't be them doing it. When they first informed us though, Kazuya was off to the side by himself listening, and when they finished talking, it was almost looking as though he was… praying. Or something. Hoping. And if _Kazuya _is hoping, then that's not exactly a good sign."

Seong-Hada cut in, shivering a little from the cold and the quickening rain. He pulled his jumper closer to his body, "Have any of you guys even bothered to _ask _Kazuya? He might know what's going on better than little Miss 'Look-Down-My-Shirt-And-Up-My-Skirt'."

"…Who?"

"The receptionist!"

"Ohhh… Well, no, we haven't asked."

"Well go do that then," Miharu remarked, "Seems like the smart thing to do."

The Brazilian cleared her throat, "Xiao, Mi, SH, you guys are all together, right? Razer's not with you?"

"No," they all answered.

"Steve, keep trying, they don't have her," she stated firmly, away from the phone.

Seong-Hada bit her lip worryingly and spoke into the Chinese girl's phone once more, "Um… is Raven missing as well?"

"Yeah."

"Don't call her. She's alright. She's in good hands."

"What do you mean?"

The two girls looked at him, and he looked back with a light smile. They knew. Of course they knew. Sure, the others at the lobby did as well, but not like the three of them here did. They understood more. They overheard Hwoarang's distress in the other room when Raven brought her to Jin's room, they heard Raven tell Jin of what happened, and so on. They knew what was going on. And the less to know, the better it would probably be.

"Seong-Hada?"

He spoke into the cellphone once again, "Just trust me, she's fine. Stop calling her."

"If you say so… Steve, stop calling!" they heard the sound of flesh colliding on flesh on the other side of the line, followed by a material item hitting the floor, and a disgruntled cry from the boxer. They assumed Christie had slapped his hand, and that his phone had hit the floor, which he was clearly not pleased about. Well, that, or the slap.

Miharu looked away from the phone, sighing. However, when she did, she thought she saw someone familiar looking lost and panicky. Squinting her eyes, she indeed made out the red hair and the brief, glinting shine of the goggles. Confused, she mustered up all her voice and yelled out, "Hwoarang!"

The man's head snapped towards them, eyes widening, pleased, and charged towards them.

Christie overheard her cry, "What? Hwoarang?"

Xiaoyu answered, a little dumbstruck herself, "He's… running this way?"

"Isn't he supposed to be fighting?"

"Well… he looks wounded. And he's coughing."

"**Seong-Hada!**" the 21-year-old gritted out, stopping before them, struggling to breathe, both hands to the right side of his body, again targeting the ribs that were causing him so much pain, "**Your phone, give me your phone.**"

Hirano cut in as the younger Korean did what his gang leader asked, "Hwo, what's wrong?"

He waved them off dismissingly with an apologetic and urgent face, dialling a number at lightning speed, pressing the item to his ear forcefully. Xiaoyu, Miharu and Seong-Hada waited, seeing how their friend was extremely edgy. They questioned the bleeding on his body, the bruises, and the absurd amount of coughing and shaking. There was no way Jin could've done that much damage to him. There was just no fucking way.

The Korean almost jumped out of his skin when the phone he was calling picked up, "Raven?"

"Speaking?"

"Thank _fucking_ God. It's Hwoarang."

Now, eyebrows had almost risen completely off their faces. Raven? How the hell did he call –

The Blood Talon spoke again, "Where are you stationed?"

"That is none of your business. The location of my ship is classified."

"I don't fucking care about your orders. Where the _fuck _are you?"

"Speak to me in such a manner again and I will see to it that –"

"Look, _I know _she's with you, okay? She told me she was going to find you today. Just tell me where you are. The darkness, he's here, he's alive, he's fucking breathing and beating the shit out of Kazama and I. It feels like I'm gonna fucking collapse from exhaustion, and only God knows how Kazama's feeling at the moment, fighting _by himself. _It's not Kazuya or Heihachi, Raven; it's _Jinpachi, _the _old _old man Mishima. Unless you want _the devil in him _to go nuts and kill everyone, I advise you _HURRY THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!!_"

There was silence for a very long time on all areas. No one had ever heard him yell like that. He had literally _exploded._

"Five minute walk, maybe two minute run from the western exit of the Plaza. Turn left at the fork in the road, go down the path, then turn left again at the vague dirt track. You'll see the ship soon enough," Raven monotonously stated.

"_Thank _you."

With that, the Blood Talon thrust the material item back into Seong-Hada's hand and sped off, following the directions given.

Soon enough, Christie pipped up once again. In the background, they could hear the other participants murmuring in confusion and wonder, mainly Baek and Julia, "What the _hell _was that about?"

Seong-Hada phased out, not hearing the three women debate amongst themselves in regards to what Hwoarang's mysterious rambling was about. He slowly inched his head down until he was looking at the phone in his hand, seeing the most recent call on his list gaze up at him in return. He breathed in, bit his lip and stared up at the dark sky worriedly.

_Razer Athane._

* * *

"Was it…?"

"Yes," Raven replied, placing the phone back on the table. He turned to the woman who had spoken, seeing her sit in the chair, trembling, gritting and bearing the needle still sticking in her arm. Behind her forest green eyes, he could see the origin of her torment screaming violently, and she was having difficulty keeping it inside, "He's on his way to take you to the final match, wherever that'll be. He's confirmed the presence of the darkness and named him personally."

Razer nodded, trying to ignore Crane and the needle, "Jinpachi."

The man looked away and raised a heavy arm, resting it on the wall, "I was such a fool… I honestly thought that… That…"

"You had no way of knowing," the Greek replied softly, still trembling due to the corrupt angel within, "It's okay. Of course you were going to assume it was Heihachi, or even Kazuya. After all, they've done things like this before. It was a good guess, though. A really good guess. You weren't far off the family tree, hm?"

He smiled wryly, "Eagle, status?"

"Her pulse hasn't fluctuated more than last time," he replied, looking away from the computer, "I think it's gonna work."

"How will I know?" the girl interrupted, "How do I know that she's changing? I cannot feel anything other than sickness."

"Try talking to her," Eagle remarked simply, now staring back at the monitor.

She nodded again and closed her eyes, breathing steadily, _Hey?_

No response.

Again, _Anything happening in there?_

No response.

_At least acknowledge your host._

I apologise. This feels… new… to me. I didn't even know I could interact with you like this.

Storm Wind jumped up with surprise, knocking Crane off balance, who tumbled down, taking the now empty needle along with it. Her eyes flew open as well, like harshly pulled blinds, "The voice, oh my God, it's different, it's different… There's no… _It's different! _She's different! It is working!"

Eagle smiled wholly, looking at the 20-year-old with joy, "Alright!"

I'm working as fast as I can to fix up the corrupt side. I'd say I need about another… ten minutes. But I'm almost there, okay? You'll be as good as new, and you won't be in any pain anymore. Everything will get better, I promise. No more demons to haunt your every waking moment, your every subconscious thought, and your every feeling.

_Thank you. _

No more nightmares.

_Really. Thank you._

A smile appeared inside her head, and for once, it was not a cruel smile. It was an honest one.

Bashing suddenly occurred.

* * *

"**Who are you?**" Jinpachi asked with an infuriated growl, throwing another punch.

Jin weaved under the attack, refusing to be hit again. He slammed his left fist into the kidney-area of his ancestor, before leaving a firm kick at the side of his head. The taller man was seemingly not phased by this, and rubbed his head with a large hand, before sliding down in a sweeping kick, tripping up the 21-year-old.

"**Answer me!**"

He sighed, standing, "**I am Jin Kazama, the heir to the cursed blood.**"

"**No wonder my blood is screaming to **_**destroy **_**you.**"

Yes! Destroy him. Destroy this miserable excuse for a man. Slit his throat, drain the blood, watch with pure delight as it _pours _upon the ground before you, idly _pooling _in front of your feet, until it becomes a mirror for you to gaze into!

The Mishima man curled up for a brief moment, before suddenly stretching out again. Jin wondered for a moment what he was doing, but when the stomach-mouth rapidly spit out a large fireball, he had a better understanding. Thinking quickly, he stood up and side-stepped it, watching with shock as it hurtled towards an already burnt down house.

He mentally yelled at himself for looking away, feeling a knee slam harshly into his torso. He started to drop to the ground again, only to be grabbed by the front of his jacket, and thrown to the other side of Ground Zero once again. He felt like Jinpachi's rag doll, honestly. He was losing energy quickly, and couldn't fight back like he could before.

He couldn't take much more of this punishment.

_Come on Hwoarang…_

Jin dodged two punches, before delivering another one of his own. It collided with his great-grandfather's chin, sending his head back. Using this to his advantage, he flicked his right leg our harshly, the tip of his shoe travelling the length of his opponent's body. He fell, a hand going towards his thigh in pain.

Taking to Hwoarang's favourite method of attack, he delivered as many axe kicks as he could to the man, watching with a light smirk as he cringed in pain and whimpered in agony. Soon enough though, Jinpachi stood up, slamming his fist back into Jin's stomach. The Japanese youth didn't lose his breath this time, and managed to block the coming attacks with his forearms. He was getting too fatigued to dodge.

Yes, too weak indeed. If it wasn't for me, you would've passed out _a long _time ago.

His face twisted into a scowl as he conducted a Left Roundhouse Punch, launching his opponent again.

Actually… _you'd be dead _if it was not for me.

One Two Punch.

You would've stayed on the cold, stone floor of Ogre's Temple, bleeding, never to be found.

Left Axe Kick.

A lonely spirit travelling the world, without a destination… forever doomed to see me control your body like the _puppet _you are. Monster.

Savage Sword.

Like your Mother is right now.

Laser Cannon.

She weeps for you, you know. She weeps in agony, watching her baby boy fight for his life. She prays that you'll live.

Spinning High Kick.

A 'shame' that _you_ will _die…_

Spinning Flare Kick.

…and _I…_

Corpse Thrust.

…will _live._

His chain was stopped violently with the Mishima's hand.

Jinpachi had grabbed the coming Corpse Thrust punch in his larger hand, and began to squeeze it hard, hoping to break the hand torturously. The agonising cries that were deriving from his descendant were absolutely delicious. Oh, how bloodshed and pain simply tickled him fancy. He absolutely, positively _adored _it, almost as much as fighting itself –

With a simple flick of his wrist, Kazama dropped to his knees. He kicked the kid in the stomach, shivering pleasantly when the boyish whimper of pain emerged, the action sending him far away, almost all the way across Ground Zero once more.

"Jin!"

That voice… Could he be imagining things?

The soft, fast sounds of footsteps disproved his belief that he was imagining the previous noise. The sounds got closer and closer, until at last, as he tried to shakily stand with difficulty, he felt small, steady hands come to help him up to his feet. His frame was heavy, though the person managed to summon enough strength to have him stand wholly.

He turned his head to the right and smiled, "Razer."

"Hello," she said simply, letting go, confident that he could stand on his own.

A third voice cut in, this one clearly a male and utterly exhausted, "They think… that she's cured… now. They're really… really… sure."

The smile at Hwoarang's statement, grew, but then faded rapidly, "Everyone, move!"

They did as he instructed, seeing a horizontal claw swipe miss all three of them. If the three fighters had remained where they were, then Jinpachi would've aimlessly cut off all of their heads in a single strike, thus handing him the victory of the battle, as well as sealing the fate of the Earth, along with humanity itself. A pity they had moved.

The three were on their feet and in their stances, facing towards the Mishima beast. Japanese, Greek, Korean. In that order, their faces set with determination to take him down. His smirk twisted into a characteristic glare, and he too fell into stance, silently accepting the challenge. Three to one. No big deal. He could take down each and every one of them easily, whether they were united, or they were separated.

Time to show them their fatal mistake in challenging him.

He tried to preform the same attack again, only the brats had scattered apart, like ants. Jin stood on his right side, delivering a short, quick series of painful punches to his side. Razer had moved to his other side, slamming her foot into the same area, only on her side. Hwoarang had run all the way behind him and slammed the whole of his leg into his spine.

Not knowing what side to attack first, he launched a fist at his ancestor, hoping to pulverise his skull with one mighty blow. It missed entirely, and the two Tae Kwon Do practitioners used his unbalanced form as an advantage. With a swift, clean kick, he found himself airborne, and copping another three kicks in his back as a consequence.

He saw Jin move around him, ready to attack him on the ground once more. Jinpachi hurriedly stood, not wanting to give him that opportunity. It seemed, though, that the 21-year-old refused to have any of that, and grabbed his arm, hurling him over his shoulder. As a result of the executed throw, his back was on the cold ground, and his face was staring up at the grey, crying sky; not to mention being glared at by three angry fighters.

He lashed out an open hand again. This time, the claws swiped across Razer and Hwoarang's legs, drawing blood, something the demonic man was indeed pleased about. Injure their weapons, and they won't fight anymore. They'll be useless twigs, ready to be snapped under his mighty fist. Defenceless mortals, ready to die by his immeasurable power.

The Mishima smirked heartlessly, standing up again with ease. He turned his attention to his descendant, releasing three immaculate punches, followed by a low kick and yet another fierce fist to the face. Jin recoiled in pain, stumbling back. However, his assault had him thrown to the ground yet again, this time by the female. The throw itself had his leg twisted in a way it shouldn't go, before he was dropped to the ground like a meaningless doll.

"Hey," Kazama began, hurriedly wiping blood off of his face with the back of his glove, looking at the 20-year-old quickly, "If you have been cured, then that means you can transform into a purer being… Your attacks will hurt him much more than they do as you are now. Try it, we might be able to finish him faster."

"I-I don't know if I can…" Razer stammered.

"Just try it. Please. Give it a go."

Ducking another few attacks from Jinpachi, Storm Wind took several steps back until she was well clear of any further attacks by him. With a fleeting look at Hwoarang, who nodded, and another one towards Jin, who was currently too preoccupied in attacking his great grandfather; she closed her eyes and reduced the speed of her breathing to the slowest possible pace.

Calm. Calm. Calm. Keep calm. There's no battle going on outside the closed eyes. Just keep calm. Ignore the increased pace of raindrops. Ignore the whimper of pain that her best friend just emitted. Ignore her ex-boyfriend's body hit the ground, and the unhappy groan that arrived thereafter. Ignore the demonic cackle. Ignore it all. Calm. Calm.

She shivered uncontrollably, a pleasant wind encircling her. It crawled under her black jeans and up her legs, under her light blue shirt and up her arms, making her entire body feel just that little bit cold on the outside… though so warm on the inside. So warm, mellow, pleasant… _happy_.

It was a far cry from having a corrupt angel attempt to activate itself.

Just think happy thoughts, Angel remarked, Think about your happiest, most precious times, and I'll come out easier. Memories don't lie.

The wings… the white wings, they didn't hurt coming from her body. They didn't burn and sting and rip and ache like the black wings did. No, these ones were soothing and gentle, like a soft caress. She shivered, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around herself to soothe, or add to, the feeling. But it seemed her mind was doing it for her, and the warmth she was feeling inside, whether from her happiest memories or from Angel, stopped the quivering.

Streaks of a spring day five years ago, and of a cool, summer night two years ago faded away into nothingness.

Open your eyes, child. You are not restricted. You are not in chains, forced to watch another use your body. You have complete control. _Complete _control. Do as you wish, and I will help you. My power is now yours, combined, united and joined for the first time. Use them as you see fit.

The moment she followed Angel's instructions, a burst of grey shot into her eyes, disrupted her otherwise happy sensation. Her leaf green eyes absorbed the environment, roaming over the area, including the three males looking at her in absolute fear, soothing relief and pure, unrestricted joy; remembering exactly why she was here, and what she came here to do.

There was silence all across Ground Zero, aside from the cries of the rain and wind. Razer looked down on herself, seeing how she was still in her normal attire, though behind her, she could see the tips of her new wings. Curious, she looked up and raised her hands, trying to feel around for a halo. She frowned a little in disappointment, but it didn't really matter. They came down a little, and she felt a leafy item around her forehead, like a wreath.

Her eyes swept across the three of them once more. Jinpachi, with rage and fear stitched to his visage. Jin, with a content, relieved look. Hwoarang, with what could only be described as pride and delight. The pure bliss was even evident in his voice as he spoke, his voice just above a whisper, barely audible even to those around him. It was more to himself than anyone else, "Look at you. You did it. You _finally_ did it. _You're free_… my angel."

She straightened up and furrowed her eyebrows just that little bit as she took her first steps towards the three of them as her purer self. Jinpachi began to take small steps back, shaking his head in disbelief, shuddering with pure ire that seemingly paralysed him from doing anything. The feelings coursed through his body, directing him to do only one thing, and that was move away from the new source of pain.

But no matter how fast he moved back, she still caught up to him, and delivered the first punch to the head that started the battle again.

Hwoarang shot towards the demon first, conducting three roundhouse kicks, aimed for the head as well. The first two hit the Mishima, however the last one was blocked. Jin rushed towards the battle as well, delivering yet another Corpse Thrust. It painfully connected, however crude or cheap the blow to the private area may have been. It didn't matter. This wasn't an entertainment match for victory – this was a life-or-death fight for survival.

Jinpachi forcefully stood, hitting them all with another sweeping claw strike. Hwoarang surprisingly jumped over the attack, despite causing more agony on his already sore body, though it collided with the newly transformed Angel Razer and the Japanese youth. Both recovered quickly and were on the attack again, the Korean following thereafter with his usual string of Machine Gun Kicks, followed by Hot Feet.

"**Foolish mortals… Even with refuelled hope, you'll **_**still **_**fail by my mighty hand!**"

He attacked again with another fire blast, which was easily avoided, and a mighty palm strike, sending the biggest threat onto her back with a disgruntled cry. The Blood Talon panicked a little, and it showed to the demonic creature, who used the distraction to his advantage. His large hand enclosed around the slim forearm, and with ease, he lifted the man and hurled him into a nearby charred brick wall, chuckling darkly when the body smashed through.

His descendant's right fist suddenly smashed into his temple. As the elderly man was sent flying, he got a glimpse of Jin's retreating hand, noting that it had been a charge attack. It must've been rarely used. Little did he know, the attack had been named Avenger, and for a damn good reason too.

A firm strike whacked him in the middle of his spine once again. The body was hurled back in the opposite direction from the other 21-year-old's Cheap Snap Shot Kick. With a growl, he narrowed his eyes at the redhead, making a mental note to fiercely attack him in the ribs once more as pay back. That seemed to be his weakest point, for whatever reason.

Two closed fists struck him in his midsection in unison, above his extra stomach, and threw him directly into the ground. Thunder screamed overhead, and rain continued to pour, even at one stage a few stray raindrops getting in his eye. Jinpachi furiously blinked the invading water away, seeing Athane land on her feet beside him and rear her leg up high, slamming it into the direct centre of his chest. He swore he could feel bone crack below her heel.

Jinpachi stood shakily, breathing in and out through chattering teeth. He began to lumber forward towards the woman standing a fair few feet in front of him. He began to reach a hand out in hopes of grabbing her, and snapping her neck. He was stopped when a hand enclosed itself around his wrist, and pulled it back so it was facing behind him. Within a few moments, he was on the ground once more with a heel painfully leaving his midsection.

Enraged, the Mishima looked up, seeing that obnoxious Korean stray away, still bouncing back and forth on his feet. The very sight itself was agitating. What was even more agitating was when he came back to attack with two Spinning Left Axe Kicks aimed at his throat, both of which harshly collided. The spur of his boot tore at the flesh, having blood rain down his body, like his arms, legs, back and chest also dictated.

He stood quickly and parried a coming attack from Jin, easily throwing him across Ground Zero once more, like the rag doll he truly was. The body of his descendant slumped upon landing, barely moving thereafter. He flexed his fingers, feelings his claws twitch in anticipation for another attack. Said attack eventually came, yet another swipe of his left hand. The sheer force of the strike sent the 21-year-old far to the side, where he desperately tried to catch his breath and ignore the pain clouding his very system.

Suddenly, he felt something burn his back. The scent of smoke invaded his nostrils, and it was here that Jinpachi realised it was _his _flesh that he could smell, _burning _as he fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Oh God, it was so painful, it was so _fucking _painful. It was like having a limb hacked off. Or so he imagined. He didn't actually know.

Lying on his side, he looked out through blood red eyes, seeing Razer land on both her feet, slouch forward and hold her head, appearing to be dizzy. Her white wings were slumped to her sides, as though they were having difficulty in holding themselves up. Her breathing was ragged, though still strong (but not as strong as when she first started to fight).

Still angered, he sloppily and shakily stood to his feet, beginning to slowly walk towards the woman whose life had to end _here and_ _now _if he had any hopes of continuing his domineering plans. Who knew such a scrawny bitch could pack such power? Who knew, from a glance, of what powers she possessed underneath the tanned skin and behind the forest green eyes?

_Woah… _She thought to herself, closing her eyes, taking deep, deep breaths in, _Remind me not to do that again just yet…_

The laser attack is a strong one. You have significantly weakened your opponent. I'm trying to stop the dizziness.

_I feel like blacking out…_

Don't. Keep breathing.

Hwoarang gritted his teeth and pushed himself up slowly, resting his form on his elbows. He opened his sienna eyes and quickly scanned the area for the Greek youth. Eventually, they landed on her body, and he noticed how she barely moved in her standing position. She was clearly out of it, judging by the last attack that almost hacked Jinpachi in half, and couldn't see the fuming man lumbering towards her.

He gathered all of his weak voice and called out, "Razer!"

She didn't respond. It was almost as though she couldn't hear him.

He swallowed the large apprehensive lump in his throat and managed to push himself to his feet. He stumbled forward for the first few steps, before starting yet another run, despite the excruciating pain swimming throughout his whole body. The Blood Talon swore he had lost all strength and feeling in his muscles, yet despite this, couldn't quite pin point why he was still able to move and scream, "_Razer!_"

Again, his call went unheard, dying in the rain.

He didn't bother calling out to her for a third time, and simply sprinted, trying, wanting, _needing_ to get to her before Jinpachi could. Jin was too far down the other end of Ground Zero to do anything, and unless Athane gained her senses back soon, she was as good as dead. And he refused to let that happen, _he couldn't _let that happen. No, not now. Not now. _Not ever._

_She_ was useful here. She was their strongest hope.

_He_ was not. He was _useless, _and he knew that. Nothing extraordinary, nothing special.

Just another pathetic, weak, insignificant… _mortal._

He hurriedly veered to the right, still behind Jinpachi, and kept running, glad that he was so damn good at the thing. All those boring Athletics Carnivals when he was younger paid off. The sweat and rain had his hair and clothing stick to his body, making it difficult for him to move any faster. His shirt felt like it was slipping off, his pants felt like lead weights, as did his hair; but he refused to just stop here and give up like his body so desperately wanted. Because he wouldn't give up.

The Korean's breath was ragged as finally surpassed the demonic man, who was now scarily close to his best friend. She was still motionless, her eyes were still closed, and she was still in the dizzy state. Still in running momentum, he caged her in his arms, pressing her against his body with all his might, holding her head to his chest –

And then –

Immeasurable agony –

_Immeasurable agony_ –

A fist, _through –_

Pained _scream_ –

Agony, agony –

_Falling_ –

Falling –

Down –

Falling –

Ground.

Razer head slammed into the ground, giving her a good jolt. Her eyes were still closed as she breathed in deeply, glad to finally be out of the damn dizziness that had practically paralysed her. That attack… too strong to use again at the moment.

Her stomach twisted.

She smelt fire.

It tightened.

An aching head, pressure on her body, extra, tired limbs –

And tightened some more.

Her dreams. She was finally living out the damn dreams. She could learn who was lying on the ground next to her, she could decipher its meaning now that it was happening and now that it was _here _in front of her, happening around her. Just happening, at long last. At long last, she could stop wondering, and _know _for sure what was going on.

She knew she was on the ground, for she felt dirt and mud below her sweaty body and her trembling hands, like her dream. The rain continued to pelt down, and she could see it leave little unwanted marks in the mud. Thunder boomed once more, creating more throbs in her head. So far so good, everything was identical, right down to her swallowing and the fear crawling up her spine at a snail's pace.

And like her dreams, something was seriously wrong.

Her eyes were still sealed shut, and refused to open. Whether that was because of Angel's will or her own, she didn't know, but it was extremely difficult to peel them open – nearly impossible. She tried again, only to fail miserably. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to sit up from her lying position, but the pressure on her body and the ache of it as well was too powerful to ignore. She shivered and let out a simple whine at her current inability.

Fear continued to crawl into her heart.

Athane breathed in and out shakily, catching a whiff of blood in the process. So much blood, and it wasn't just her own from the fight. She could taste it in the inside of her mouth, most probably from the head collision. Must've bitten her tongue, or something like that. So far, everything was still in check with the dreams, right down to the smallest details.

_Up, _she said to herself, _Get up. Open your eyes._

And like the dreams, she tried three times, the third attempt being successful in one area. Now somewhat sitting up, but with eyes still closed, she coughed up blood and felt the pressure slide off her form, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Still coughing, she turned her head to the right slightly, feeling movement come back to her after such a powerful attack. She made a mental note to _seriously _not do that again.

She shivered involuntarily. The darkness was looming over her, and she strained to hear the deep chuckles of Jinpachi Mishima. Well, one thing had been cleared so far. The darkness in her dreams was Jinpachi. The dreams must've been warning her about it, or something, but at the time, she didn't know anything at all. Jin's dreams must've reflected this too.

Danger, danger. She was in danger if she didn't open her eyes and _move._

Something was still horribly wrong, and the 20-year-old couldn't help but release a little cry.

The scent of fire, rain and blood greeted her when she breathed in once again. She felt liquid slide down the side of her head, which she knew was blood. She looked to the right, and finally, her eyes opened. So far so good, everything was still following the dreams, _exactly _as they were dictated. Even now as she looked at her fingertips, which had been bloodied from touching the side of her head. She must've hit her head or something on the way down, from whatever brought her down.

…What _did _bring her down?

The fingertips finally appear in her line of vision. Her green eyes widened. This was the final piece of the puzzle. She'd finally know who it was lying motionless beside her. She remembered the limp pressure, like a limb, or maybe even a body, sliding off her form only a few moments before, as well as the blood that wasn't just hers.

Footsteps draw closer and closer, and the laughing seemingly gets louder. She picked up the faint 'oh God' as well. Razer closed her eyes again, clenched her fists and slowly turned her head to the left, where the owner of the fingertips would be. She whimpered, for whatever reason, as her eyes open again, just a crack.

There's the lightning strike. She could see the silhouette of the person, but it left as quickly as it came. Now all she could see were her own eyelashes. The fog that was in her dreams, though, was not here in reality. Maybe it was a ploy in her dreams, to try and disguise the person's identity; to protect her, somehow.

Her eyes were finally open, and her hands flew up to her mouth, not masking the scream that followed.

There before her, pain had been redefined.

"_NO!!!_"

The laughter increased in volume as she took in the form of Hwoarang, dead beside her.


	40. Light And Dark

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

_**Chapter Forty: Light And Dark**_

The world continued to stand still in darkness. Time dared not creep forward, not even an inch. It just stood still, frozen, immortalised.

With an agitated, yet happy growl, the Blood Talon sat up and quickly looked to the right, seeing Jinpachi stand a fair few feet before him, laughing like there was no tomorrow. But about what? _He _was the successful one here. _He stopped _the Mishima man from killing the one thing that was important. Characteristically, he flipped him the bird with a sneer, and then looked to his left where he heard feminine, teary sobs.

"_What're you crying about?"_ he asked, _"It's alright, we're safe. We're alive. We can keep fighting."_

"You're an idiot…" she murmured through the tears.

"_Gee, thanks."_

Razer's hands moved to rub her eyes. It was almost as if he was unheard. He saw her try to keep in the tears in, but fail miserably, and the choked cries that followed were becoming uncontrollable. Just seeing them, as always, hurt. Something he hated more than anything was hearing or seeing her cry. And he always tried to do whatever he could to stop it.

And just like every other time, he reached a hand out to place it on her cheek, to stroke those damn tears away. However, unlike every other time, his hand went through her. He jumped, confused and a tad frightened, and looked at his hand. He could see the ground through it. It was… transparent –

"Why did you do it…? _Why_…?"

Because he loved her.

The Korean didn't quite understand what was going on until he looked down at himself. With a surprised gasp, he could see through his own body, and his legs. Below them were solid replicas. He turned his head and looked back on where he had been lying previously, and it was then that he understood everything as he looked at himself lying cold, unmoving, bleeding and _lifeless_.

He was dead. Now… now he was a phantom.

A light finally covered by darkness.

Hwoarang bit his lip fiercely as his sienna eyes scanned his own body. He had been thrown onto his side, most probably by Razer when she sat up. His body was soaked with rain and blood. He turned a little, peering at the right side of his back, where Jinpachi's punch had struck him. Blood was just cascading from the circular wound continuously, like the flow of a river, drenching his clothing and staining the muddy ground below his corpse.

A liver shot. An instant killed shot, if done hard enough and fast enough. Couple that attack with the ribs that never healed properly, and were presumably poking into it, or other organs, and he was a complete goner. For sure.

"_Oh my God…" _he murmured in disbelief, _"I-I'm…"_

A hiccup caught his attention again. His head snapped back to the Greek. He was finding it difficult to see through blurry eyes, even as she continued to stare down at him and shake her head in horror, incredulity, and despair. Her voice was tiny as she spoke to his dead self, not knowing that his spirit could hear her every word, "We were s-supposed to… We were supposed to do… so many more th-things… _Together_… A-as everything… As always. Travelling… more tournaments… snow fights… e-everything… Maybe even… _us… _Even if… Even if we had to… wait… for our time…"

He smiled despondently, his heart wrenching.

"I love you."

"_I love you too," _he whispered.

He vaguely heard Jinpachi continue to laugh, and another person, undoubtedly Jin, stand on his feet shakily. He saved her, he kept her alive so that she could keep fighting be useful, and do something, at the price of his own life. He could easily say though that it was a price he was willing to pay. If it meant he had to die so she could live… then… the choice was obvious.

"I love you!" she cried desperately.

"_I love you too!" _he choked back.

Fuelled by the emotions caused by the death, Athane stood to her feet, and with an angered cry, launched her foot squarely into Jinpachi's head, leaping over the body of her dead comrade to do so. The villain was sent back several feet, rolling backwards due to the force. The remaining two fighters both sprinted towards him, very much intending to honour the memory of their friend, and make the demonic human pay for what he did.

Hwoarang stood shakily, shivering, watching them both through wet eyes. The Japanese man thrust his elbow into his rising ancestor's head vigorously, before kicking him four times and going into Laser Cannon. This chain was taken over by the woman, who struck the villain twice with her fists, then five times with her feet, alternating between them.

He held his breath when the person he had sacrificed his life for had been struck by a stun punch. Her hands were covering her face as she remained completely still, purple light fading away around her as a result of it. He focused all of his mental power in the form of words, _"Come on, move! Its just some cheap ass attack, you're better than that! _Move _dammit!"_

Before Jinpachi could strike her with the very same punch that had killed him, she had recovered, and Jin had delivered a Right Roundhouse Punch into his shoulder to turn him away, injuring him further. The Mishima laughed, fangs hauntingly gleaming in the dark area. Thunder screamed again, and the rain continued to pelt the fighters.

The Blood Talon breathed in a wincing whimper as the girl he loved was fiercely struck across the face with claws, drawing blood. He quivered with anger, wanting nothing more than to run up to the old man and slam his boot into his face… But he knew he couldn't, of course. Said boot would just go straight through the head. It'd just be useless. Hell, he was even more useless _now _than when he was _alive… _

He wished… He wished that he was of some use. Now, then, before, _ever. _He wondered if he ever made a difference.

"_Don't cry."_

He sucked in a breath and the tears harshly, before looked around questioningly. The voice. Again.

"_Behind you, your right."_

He followed the instructions, slowly turning away from the battle. He saw a woman, who was transparent like he was, standing nearby, hands behind her back. She was of slim build with lightly tanned skin, had dark brown, chocolaty hair, and light blue eyes, like the clear sky. There was a light smile on her face, and he couldn't help but feel as if he had seen her somewhere before. Just somewhere…

And then it hit him, his eyes widening dramatically, _"You're…"_

Her voice was laced with an accent he had heard only in the early days of knowing his best friend, _"Hello."_

"_Her Mother… You're her Mother."_

Victoria Athane. The voice finally had a name, and the 'please protect my little one' statement finally made sense.

She took her hands from behind her back, waving at him with one of them, still smiling. It was the same smile Razer often had throughout her life, the one that made his day so many times, _"My English is not too good… Please bear with me."_

He nodded, watching as she stepped towards him, and came to stand on his left, _"Sure."_

There was silence. Both watched the two remaining fighters attack Jinpachi fiercely. Razer grabbed the bulky arm and performed Falcon Dice Kick, and upon landing, Jin slammed his shoe into his side. He was tripped up by his ancestor, and retaliated angrily with a foot stomp. The Mishima stood up, moving to strike Jin once more, however the Greek pulled him up to his feet and managed to get him out of the way, still mourning.

"_I'm sorry that this happened," _Victoria said sadly.

Hwoarang looked to her for a moment, biting his lip, before looking down at his feet, _"Yeah…"_

"_But still… Thank you. Not for that only, but for all things."_

"_All things…?"_

"_Everything you've done, even when you were both little. I saw it all. And I thank you very much. From taking her to your home, to helping her realise that there were… were… plenty of reasons to live, to keeping her focus off bad Angel, to the first kiss to that last hug. All of it. Thank you. You did more than you know. You always made a difference."_

He smiled slightly, eyes still cloudy as he looked up at her, seeing her look back.

"_You're her light."_

He choked a little on the tears that couldn't be restricted, though he still desperately tried to, and looked away. Victoria smiled slightly and reached out to grab him, wanting pulling him closer towards her, hoping to hug him comfortingly. She eventually managed to seize him and do so, stroking his red hair softly as they watched the battle continue on.

"_Who's that?" _Hwoarang asked, pointing to another woman standing near Jin, who was in the same state as them.

"_That's Jin's Mother, Jun. She does what I do, basically."_

"_Do my parents do the same?"_

"_Yes. But they're not strong enough to appear like this, sorry to say."_

He shrugged lightly, taking no offence whatsoever. After all, the woman holding him woman possessed half of the Angel Gene, and Jun herself was unusually pure. His parents, though… or what he could remember of them, were just ordinary people. They weren't extraordinary, they weren't unique. They were just ordinary, common people.

But he was ordinary too… Why was he like this?

An upset cry had both people bite their bottom lip with worry. Jinpachi's clawed hand swiped across Razer's white wings, drawing blood. He laughed with glee as it dripped down, aiming to stain them. The woman drew her wing back and brought it closer to her body, still cringing and shivering in pain and anger. The retreating act in itself was difficult to do, and it was here that she realised that she could not take to the skies for the rest of the match.

"Are you okay?" Jin asked with worry, avoiding a sharp kick to the head. He made his way over to his ex-girlfriend, who was observing the wound carefully. A punch to the back had him fall down, but he managed to slam both his feet into his ancestor's stomach before he could get any closer to her. Standing again, he continued on his way until he was close enough to see her shaking with many nameable and nameless emotions.

"Been better," she replied tearily, thereafter adding, "Duck!"

He did so, looking up as he did, seeing foot shoot above him. If he had been standing, that would've collided with, and taken off, his head. Making the most of the position he was in, he awkwardly wrapped his leg around his opponent's muscled one, and pulled harshly. He pushed himself up as well, and the combined methods had Jinpachi flat on his back, and suffering an onslaught of punches, kicks and joint locks.

Razer joined him soon after, delivering axe kick after axe kick after axe kick that had the tears raining down again. Taking a deep breath in did nothing to soothe the pain choking her insides, like a disease. She just couldn't believe that this was happening. Many times, he could've died on the streets, and never come home. Many times, he could've died on a mission during his service, and never come home. But it just _had _to happen here, didn't it?

And it hurt so fucking much.

Reeling from the onslaught, Jinpachi stood to his feet and clenched both his fists, eyeing down the remaining two opponents before him. A wicked sneer appeared on his face as he started to attack angrily, dividing the attention between each of them evenly and quickly, "**You know… Killing that kid was delightfully fun… It has further flared my endless hunger for death. And once I am done with the two of you… Well...**" he chuckled.

Jin's temper flared. Quickly and acting on impulse, he hurled a fist into his great grandfather's neck, feeling the mass of muscle quiver below his strike. No, no more killing. No more killing, no more killing, no more killing. There was enough death in the world as it was, with car crashes, surgery that went wrong, disease and just passing on in slumber. The world didn't need this monster to tear out flimsy paper hearts and crush them in his hands.

Yet to stop death coming to the world, you must murder in turn, Devil grinned, his gleaming white fangs forever evident in the youth's trembling mind, Death is the future, the destined darkness of the world, and it will consume all… 

_It is for the greater good, _he reminded himself, flicking his right leg out in a fierce kick.

What did I say, mortal? What did I say to you as you mourned your battle against Xiaoyu? Say it, for you know it is true… _You _will bring the death. _You _will be the reaper. The strikes will be languid and excruciating… and quick and painless. A monster, bringing down yet another monster. And what then? You will take his place… You will be the new beast that the world seeks to destroy, to have wiped from this green Earth for eternity…

Jinpachi retaliated with a solid punch, the fist colliding with force. His descendant fell backwards, cradling his head in pain, seemingly affected by the laughter that derived thereafter from both an internal and external force. It was as though that was contributing to the aching head. He heard an aggrieved groan, and watched as the fighter attempted to stand once more.

With a wicked sneer, he slammed his right foot into Jin's side, watching as he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Like the youth before him, a hand shot to his side, trying to alleviate the sudden throbbing pain. Ah, pain. Such a wonderful sight to witness. Such a wonderful thing to create, to edge on, to dictate aimlessly –

A boot to the face suddenly greeted him, sending him back a few feet. It felt as though the cartilage in his nose had shattered below the force of the attack. He managed to open his clouding red eyes, blinding away the slight water from the shock impact of the kick, and saw Razer come at him again with another kick aimed for the head.

He weaved to his left, avoiding a Cheap Snap Shot Kick that was blindly thrown out his way. Quickly, he grabbed her leg, before it had enough time to retract back to stance, and hurriedly attempted to crush it in his large hand.

Two fists (the attack dubbed Double Chamber Punch) to the side of his body suddenly arrived, making Jinpachi drop the girl's leg. He cried out in pain, dripping back over a stubborn rock. As he went down, he saw that his attack had indeed caused some damage, though not enough to immobilise her. He most probably bruised it severely. Damn, he was hoping for at least a fracture, however tiny it may be.

She was limping towards him, casting a hurried glance at Jin, who seemed to be a little more stable now, before raising her leg high, hoping to conduct the Dynamite Heel attack. At the same time, Kazama prepared Avenger. If her attack missed on the ground, then his attack would connect when the opponent would stand and side step to avoid her's. How predictable.

Jinpachi, having realised their intents, hurriedly lashed out at Athane, sweeping his foot across with force, the attack colliding with the weak lower leg. He chuckled when she yelped, clearly sore, falling backwards. He grinned with glee, fangs shining. Their little coordinated plan had been foiled. No Dynamite Kick, no Avenger.

As he moved to grab her leg again and hopefully snap it this time, the 21-year-old seized his left arm, hauling his ancestor to a standing position. Moving from there, he quickly threw him over his shoulder, hearing the unhappy grumble derive thereafter. The dark grin morphed into a frustrated scowl, as he looked up, seeing his fellow kinsman bear a tiny, satisfied smile.

"**Wipe that smile off your face,**" Mishima snarled, "**You have not won yet.**"

Nor _will _you win… Devil remarked, Look at you. You're exhausted. You're only just managing to fight back, and Razer isn't in a much better state. Face it… Jinpachi draws his power from an endless supply of darkness. And you? You have _nothing. _She has _nothing _either. Light versus darkness… Darkness will always win, because all light will extinguish. No light is forever… Not even the sun.

Trying hard to ignore that statement and the ones that followed, Jin grabbed his great-grandfather by the throat, keeping a firm grip. He narrowed his eyes, unaware of the light flicker of red that crept through, and threw the heavy body aside once more, watching it fly into a nearby boulder, only to have the solid rock shatter completely below his bulk, _Can't… afford… to… lose…_

"_**You**__** can do it. Have faith.**__"_

The sweet words were from none other than Jun.

A pity the mortals couldn't hear her.

"_If only they could…"_

Hwoarang forced himself to stop in the middle of the sentence and sighed. He winced as Jinpachi, now wielding one of the many large pieces of rock, tossed it towards the two coming fighters. The fly away pebbles did collide with them, however both Jin and Razer successfully avoided the larger obstacle with ease and with haste.

"_If only they could what?" _Victoria inquired softly.

"_Hear us…" _he murmured.

"_You could hear me when I spoke with you."_

"_But…"_

She shook her head, _"Sometimes we are heard. I tried very hard to get through to you because I couldn't get through to Razer, not even when she came home. You know her best… I figured I could at least try. And try I did. I am very thankful that it succeeded, otherwise there would have been problems._

"_Have you ever had that feeling where you felt like you were being watched, yet when you'd look over your shoulder, there was nobody there? Where it felt like someone's eyes were burning into the back of your skull, yet there are no eyes to be seen? Like someone touches your arm and a shiver crawls up your back, but there is nothing there? That is the dead. That is how we communicate. It's all we can do."_

"_It sucks."_

"_Yeah, it does. Right now I want to do nothing more than punch that demon in the face."_

The Blood Talon grinned a little, _"Makes two of us… But… guess I'm kinda doomed to just be like this forever now."_

"_Oh, I doubt it."_

Suddenly, two large hands enclosed around the remaining fighters' forearms, squeezing tightly. It almost felt as though circulation was rapidly being cut off to that area, or as though their arms were about to break. Both growled in pain, and with a mighty move, Jinpachi slammed them both into each other with force.

"_What do you mean?" _he finally asked, bewildered, clearly confused.

Victoria smiled, _"You'll see. Once it is all over."_

The collision was too much for the other wing to bear, and soon enough Razer started to drop to her knees, the pain becoming too much. The opponent picked up on this, and threw her aimlessly over his large shoulder, specifically listening out for the whimper of pain that was due to follow upon her landing. As for Jin, he was kicked in the stomach, and thrown forward.

Separate the two allies, then pick off them off one by one. The weakest, then the strongest.

The biggest threat, then the smallest one.

Satisfied with their current situation, the Mishima man turned around and moved back towards his original target, cracking his knuckles as he went. A fist through the skull. That would do. Or snapping her neck. Suffocation… So many ways to end a life, and all of them are so enjoyable. So, so enjoyable, and thrilling.

He had already utilised the first option, only in a different area on the Korean corpse lying a couple of metres away from his current target. Snapping the girl's neck would be easy… But she wouldn't be able to suffer during it… Perhaps suffocation was the way to go this time. Cut off her oxygen, _make her suffer, _then she'll _die _–

That's the way to go. Definitely. Maybe break each of her fingers before the actual act to increase the pain and suffering.

His red eyes now refocused on the area, but to his dismay he couldn't locate his foe. He stopped walking, looking around for a good, long, hard moment, only seeing the corpse of the man he killed earlier. He smirked and span around in a small circle, arms out wide, his voice booming across the battlefield, "**Come out come out wherever you are, little girl… Come out into the light where I can see you, and be met with **_**darkness.**_"

Razer managed to slip away from her location, crawling on her stomach, until she was safe behind yet another boulder. She brought her battered wings closer to her form, making sure that they were behind the rock itself. Forcing herself to breathe slowly and quietly, she heard the man's voice echo across the area, and although she didn't understand, it was clearly trying to patronise her.

It was the same tone of voice her Father had when dealing with her.

She gritted her teeth, fists clenching on the rock, and took a small peek out from the side, seeing the demonic being still search around for her. She quickly stole a glance at Jin, seeing him stand, starting to march towards his laughing ancestor, almost in a trance or zombie-like state. His mouth was harshly pressed together, now nothing but a thin white line.

"**This won't take long, little girl. Come on, show yourself to me!**"

She breathed out harshly in agitation, before trying to calm herself down again.

You have all fought valiantly. Your quest is almost over. Perhaps you could distract him and Jin can deliver the final blow. He is in a better state than you are at the moment, and he is more powerful than you anyway, in terms of physical strength.

_Maybe… _she sniffled.

"**Come on now, don't be shy,**" Jinpachi taunted, looking towards where a suspicious boulder was oh so conveniently placed. He began to walk towards the area, after seeing a portion of a white wing sticking out over the top, "**I'm not your foe here… Think of me as your saviour, in one way or another… In a few moments you'll be with your **_**dear, dear **_**friend. Don't you want to be in his presence again?**"

_Exactly the same… _she hiccuped, _Oh God –_

"Ignore what he says, he is full of lies!" Kazama shouted angrily, moving much quicker, realising that the older man had found his friend's little hiding spot, "I know you do not understand but do not be tempted to understand either!"

"**Stop your insolent jabbering, little boy,**" Jinpachi hissed, spinning around, seeing his descendant approach. He clenched his fists, launching one of them towards the running body, "**It will not get you anywhere!**"

Too caught up in the speed and the movement, the attack did connect with his chest, though Jin still had enough control of his body to move to the side, so that only his knuckles grazed past him. Countering quickly and using the momentum he had built up, he attacked with Spinning Flare Kick, his heel slamming into his ancestor's throat.

Jumping up quickly and waving Razer out, the 21-year-old attacked again as the Mishima stood up, slamming fist after fist after fist into the already bleeding body. His friend joined him, replacing punches with kicks, as many and as fearsome as his own attacks were. Their foe grunted, sluggishly moving to grab one of them and hurriedly destroy them.

The Greek came at him with a Tornado Kick, throwing all of her power and force into one right kick, aimed straight at the centre of his torso. It hit with force, causing Jinpachi to double over and cough up blood, groaning. Her back was turned away from him, though, he realised through dark chuckles and uncontrollable coughs; and quickly, his hand shot out, grasping her throat, clenching with the most amount of force he could possibly muster in that hand.

She too started to cough, hands rapidly clawing at his, trying to break the grip.

Jin moved to help, but was grabbed by the arm by his great-grandfather, and tossed away again.

Die_, _woman… _Die_, Devil taunted.

Air, needed air –

"_Come on, don't let it end like this!" _Hwoarang shouted in vain, clenching his fists.

Athane cracked open an eye and turned her head, looking towards her fallen friend, unaware of his lingering soul.

"_Did she just hear me…?"_

"_I really, really doubt it," _the older woman murmured.

"_Then… why did she look over here…?"_

"_Inspiration."_

Her prediction was right, for soon enough, the fingers had been tugged free, and a harsh knee to the gut was delivered. The 20-year-old took in large gulps of precious, precious oxygen, staggering away from the source of her suffocation. She violently rubbed her throat, trying to ease the pain, and looked back to the Korean.

_For the sake of revenge… For you, for you. I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this… for you._

Dodging another few attacks from Jinpachi, the youth weaved out of the way, breathing in heavily. She jumped up, slamming her right boot into her opponent's face, before changing legs and delivering a quick sweeping kick. It didn't trip him over, though it did damage him, for he hobbled back a little, limping.

Rearing her hands back behind her trembling form, she felt Angel quickly begin to collect energy, hoping to make the coming strike a powerful one. Jin had rejoined her, throwing a string of small combos at his ancestor. Very few hits were successfully blocked. It was clear to the two of them that he was losing his strength, despite trying to stay on his feet and put up a fight.

They were almost there.

"Jin, keep him still!"

Weak mortal… He will push you over.

The Japanese youth took a hurried glance at what was accumulating in her hands and nodded sharply. Catching a coming punch from the Mishima man, he violently tossed him in her path, holding onto him from the side so that the attack wouldn't harm him in any way, shape of form.

His body too shook once the blow was delivered squarely to Jinpachi's stomach, going past the open mouth and to, though not through, the other side. His ancestor screamed in rage, pain and fear, trembling at the attack that had left him as weak as a baby. Kazama watched his ancestor hunch forward, rocking back and forth on his heels, unable to do anything.

But what was Razer trying to do initially? She punched him in the second stomach –

Because there was hardly a gap between the back of the mouth, his own organs and his back –

Do not even _think _about it! He must live! He must take over the world and cleanse it of you pathetic _mortals_!

Thinking quickly, he released the Mishima male, watching him stumble forward and continue to tremble, and moved behind him, charging up for one last Avenger punch. He maintained his breathing steadily, concentrating squarely on collecting all of his remaining energy to the end of his arm and collect in his fist.

Three. Two. One.

Withdraw your fire!

Ready. Set.

Jin Kazama! Obey me!

_Go_ –

With a harsh cry, he slammed his right fist into Jinpachi's back with closed eyes, ignoring the sickening squelches deriving, ignoring the flesh, _bone,_ giving way past his knuckles,and other bodily parts he didn't want to even think about, feel or name. It was hard enough pretending to be deaf, to ignore the screams, howls and yelps of his great grandfather, the assumed origin of the Devil Gene, though he doubted that by killing him, he would be rid of his own gene.

It didn't work with Ogre. What was to say it was going to work now? This wouldn't have any effect anyway.

Razer turned her head away, watching as the body of the once great Jinpachi Mishima fell to the ground with a heavy thud. She breathed in harshly, eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched together by her side, trying to get a grip of herself. She had seen many deaths, though they never got any easier to visually see. But one thing's for sure…

It was over, at last.

She looked back, seeing Jin still stand in stance, trembling like she was, eyes now open and staring directly into hers. Within a few swift movements, he dropped said stance, right hand plummeting to the ground, his left coming up to quickly remove the glove that was stained with the blood of his relative. It was harshly thrown to the ground, and the remaining blood on his fingers was quickly wiped away on his jumpsuit pants.

Reaper, reaper…

Ignoring the torments of a seemingly weakening Devil (in regards to what he had just done), the Japanese man looked back up to his ex-girlfriend, both of them breathing in sobs and air. With a crooked smile, he extended his arms, waving her over towards him, aiming to sport some form of comfort for the both of them, in each other.

Athane trudged over, trying to contain her despair, and wrapped her own arms around him, just as he did for her. It was over, it was over, it was over. There was no more evil at this tournament, no more fear and paranoia about something supernatural… The world would be okay, children would live and play and laugh and cry and learn and… everything. They were okay…

…But _he _was not.

Green eyes drifted back to Hwoarang for the umpteenth time since he fell. With a breathe in, she gave a last squeeze to Jin and wandered back over to him, now having a proper chance to look at the extent and location of the fatal wound due to his selfless act, and to just… sit there. Thinking. Wondering. Wishing. Grieving.

She could smell Jin follow her silently, and could hear his shoes tread carefully over the landscape. He was coming as support, and she already knew that the hate in their rivalry did not extend from him to the other. She always knew.

The distance finally crossed, she dropped to her knees, resting her hands on her thighs, looking at his fallen body, reigning in the uncontrollable sobs that wanted to claw their way out from her throat. She bit her lip, trying to hold it in, though couldn't contain some of them. She raised a hand and rubbed her eyes, looking on, hoping as though that action in itself would spur some type of life. Kazama simply sat beside her and remained as quiet as a mouse.

The soul of the Blood Talon looked on, standing beside Razer's Mother for support. Her hand was on his right shoulder, squeezing the area tightly, trying to keep him calm as he looked on. He could feel his eyes well, and successfully fought to keep the tears restrained, though he still felt the devastating desolation inside.

Jun Kazama was nearby too, standing behind Jin as she always did. She looked up towards the youth and smiled a little, before looking back down. The person being mourned for breathed in again, looking away from the Japanese woman, and looked back down. The rain was still pouring, and the thunder was still cracking overhead, only adding to the misery of the situation.

"I'd do… anything… Jin," she whispered, looking at the Karate expert for a moment, "I'd do anything to have him back."

The man nodded, patting her thigh lightly, "I know."

"Even if you were the one lying there… and he was next to me… I'd still… do anything…"

"I know," he said again. After a pause, he added, "Though, I think there is something you may be able to do."

Breaths, living and dead, were held. The Greek's voice cracked, barely audible above the rain, "What…? Tell me… Please tell me…"

"You are partially an angel Razer," Kazama began, looking at her disfigured and bleeding wings. The liquid trickled down the white feathers, giving the paths a light pink appearance, "And do angels not have the power to heal? To give life again?"

She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, _Is this true? Can you this for me…?_

Only a full angel can do this _well_, and you my dear, are only half an angel. The other half of you is a mortal, is human. You, though, are still within the first few hours of your change by chance… so the power should be strong enough to bring at least one person back, though I do warn that with that you be zapped and tired for the next… two weeks or so if I succeed… but I do not even know if I can do it.

_Please, please do it, _she choked, _At least t-try._

I will do my best, but you will not be able to do this ever again. It takes a lot of power to restore the dead. Even full angels find it difficult to do this. And considering you are only half an angel, and a brand new one at that, this might use up all your power to return souls to their bodies. Futhermore, in addition to the coming drowsiness… Razer, I won't be able to heal him completely. I can only stitch up the wound far enough so he can survive and get proper medical assistance. You _need _to get him to a hospital _as soon as you can _once he is back.

_Of course, right away, right away… And… thank you… so much… for this. I am in your debt._

You owe me nothing. 

"She is going to try," the 20-year-old said, her voice a mixture of joy and wonder, her hands shaking.

The thought broke the Korean, who was now uncontrollably smiling, _"She's… She's…"_

"_I told you," _Victoria smiled,_ "I told you that I doubted that you would stay here as you are."_

Now just relax, Angel told the Greek, moving her arms for her, gently rolling the body onto its back. Her right hand slid under his shirt, searching for where his heart lay to rest upon, and the other was firmly placed over the fatal wound. The blood was still warm under her hand, and it made her shiver, even as the internal entity spoke once more, Just relax and think of life. And he'll come back.

Closing her eyes, she nodded slightly, doing exactly as she was told, and breathed in and out steadily.

Jin grinned a little, once he saw some pale, white light below her palms. He smiled uncontrollably, clearly thrilled himself, and looked around, wondering if the 21-year-old could see what was going on. Little did he know, he could, and just could not believe his luck. No, he couldn't believe his luck.

The light that was between her hands and his solid body soon enveloped around him. With a pleased cry and a light, short laugh, he looked towards Victoria on his right, who was in the same happy state has he was. Happy that he was going back, that he had another chance to live again, just once more chance to live again… Just one more…

But soon enough, his vision started to fade, the place turning white. Confused, he called out, _"Hey? Victoria? Jun? Anyone?"_

There was silence for a moment before the former answered with what sounded like a smile, _"Tell her I love her."_

He nodded, closing his eyes, the bright white fading around him, turning into darkness, and thought silently, _Yeah. I will._

His hearing, that had faded out after hearing the woman's final words, slowly started to come back. He could hear the steady raindrops falling from the sky. Then came the steady breathing of his two counterparts, and finally, the occasional hiss of thunder dividing up the otherwise eerie quiet. Sound, sound. He could hear the faint male 'come on' in the background.

Touch was soon restored. He could feel every raindrop caress his skin, and the two shaking hands of his best friend firmly placed on his body, trying to heal what she could. The Blood Talon could feel the ground below his body, firm, supporting and ever present. Not only that, but he could feel his soaked clothes stubbornly stick to his form, his hair stick to his face, the goggles perched upon his head…

And then the pain came. This… fucking… pain… His senses were overwhelmed. It felt like he was drowning in the agony. It was of such strength that… that… well… he couldn't pin anything to even compare it against. It was just that insane. It felt like his back was on fire, as well as his ribs from earlier. To add, his head was throbbing like crazy.

Scent was the next one to come back. The air… The air. He could breathe. He was _breathing _of his own accord, inhaling and exhaling, breathing in oxygen and breathing out carbon dioxide. He could smell water, mud, sweat, smoke, blood, and many, many more indistinguishable and currently unnameable scents. It had never felt so good to breathe.

Taking in a big gasp of air, he felt everything become slightly more rejuvenated, and began to cough. Perhaps he shouldn't have taken such a large breath… But it was probably the best thing to do, to help Angel heal him, if only by oxygenating his body. He heard two voices sound immediately, both being his fellow fighters, and both's short 'oh's being laced with complete, ecstatic joy.

_Need… to see…_

The two hands left him, and he heard some more noise. It was a noise he had heard before, he realised – wings retracting. It was more than likely that Razer, tired and sore, had decided to 'put her wings away'. But he wanted to make sure. He needed to see it for himself, to make sure that he was indeed _still alive, _that he was _alive again._

_One… two… three… open._

Surprisingly, the Korean's body complied with his mental thoughts. The last sense was finally restored, going from darkness to light. He blinked rapidly a few times, clearing the rain from his vision, wishing for his vision to hurry up and adjust. The short burst of lightning that happened thereafter didn't quite help this goal, but soon enough, he could see his best friend look directly down on him, and his rival look at him from the side in disbelief.

"You made it," Jin remarked, completely thrilled.

He made it.

_I made it._

Hwoarang smiled slightly, attempting to speak, though nothing but more coughs came out. His sienna eyes watched as the Greek's lips twisted into a fully fledged smile, teeth and all, as she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. She breathed in a sob and lightly wrapped one arm around him, aware of the tears falling and bleeding through his shirt, "Sarang hae…"

The strongest form of 'I love you' in his mother tongue.

"Sarang… hae…" he really needed to work on the talking-without-coughing thing. He tried to speak again but… it was barely above a peep, and he was pretty sure that his response went unheard.

Well, he didn't really have to, huh? Because she already knew. But he still had to, _had to, _speak.

Two things to say.

_Will will will will, come on…_

As she lifted her head to look at him, his mouth opened, and two firm words trembled out of him.

"It's over."

To Jin, that would've meant the battle. To them, it wasn't.

A promise from a long time ago, finally fulfilled.

She nodded, "Yeah."

He swallowed again and spoke once more, "Your Mother loves you."

The smile slowly wore off her face. Razer stared, shocked, partially confused and in disbelief, looking hard into his sienna eyes to see that he wasn't just making this up. Her face still slack, she looked around, wondering if she was here with her, and had been for a very, very long time. She felt calm at the moment, like she did when she was little and when it was just the two of them…

She stood up, still looking around and wondering, taking two steps forward and towards her right, though still unsure of herself.

"Two more… forward…" he rasped, trying to help her out.

Heeding Hwoarang's words, she obeyed, taking another two steps forward and looking straight ahead of her. Judging by that firm, definitive tone that had crept into his voice, when he was dead… he met her… and she was standing right there when he last looked. When he wasn't wholly back, when his soul wasn't back in his body.

A smile crept onto her face, and little did she know her relative had one too, as she stared in return.

_Thank you, Mother. I love you too._

"We should get you to a hospital, immediately," Jin began, not wanting to disrupt the serene environment. He looked to Hwoarang, "I do not think that the revival has completely healed you up, and we need to get you checked out anyway. I will see if I can talk with the Zaibatsu and have them reschedule our match in a few weeks time."

"Why bother…?" he grinned through another cough, turning away from Razer. He cleared his throat once more, so he could speak again, only louder and without coughing, surprisingly, "I can kick your ass any day of the week… Jin."

The Japanese youth smiled at the hand that had slowly turned up beside him, staring at him, as though to call for a ceasefire. Like a high five, only on the ground due to his current weakness and inability to lift the right arm. It was even an effort just to turn it up in the first place, and the hand was shaking violently from the pain.

A light tap of hands echoed through the thunder.

Truce.

* * *

Author's Note: Do you really think I'd keep Hwoarang dead? DDDD: Even if bringing him back is really farfetched? XD


	41. In The Wake Of Determination

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note: **And so, this is the second last update, with the final "official" chapter of _With Me. _Just the two Epilogues, then the story is complete. And I'll say, it's a fricken relief. This story has been nothing but a roller coaster for me, lol. Anyway, I've closed the poll on my Author Page – _I will post the __prequel to__ Just Like Me. _It is called **Take Me Back. **It pretty much covers Razer and Hwoarang's years together before _Just Like Me._

But I also have a question for my audience. Since _Better Than Me, _I have toyed with the idea of a Tekken 6 Story. Though the actual story for Razer, Seong-Hada and the others concludes _here, _I've been interested in making a fifth story for the "Me Series". I had a poll up previously but for some reason it wasn't working, so I will ask you guys: **Do you want me to write a **_**Tekken 6 **_**Story?** Just leave me your feedback via review or private message. It is basically like a "what if" story, just a bonus one, though the real ending is in this story.

So uh, yeah, with that in mind, enjoy the chapter :P

* * *

_**Chapter Forty-One: In The Wake Of Determination**_

The journey to the hospital was a strange one. Hwoarang was constantly chuckling, though not deliberately. It was due to the blood loss. To make matters worse, the two fighters were having difficulty helping him anyway, because their own bodies were so weak. That, and he was having trouble walking, even collapsing at some points. At least, the trio supposed, the hospital wasn't _too _far away. Though, it most certainly felt like it.

On the way they had come to an agreement and came up with a great excuse as to their conditions. Jinpachi popped up, attacked fiercely, then they beat him together. What was left out was the passing of the Korean, and they decided to keep it to themselves. Hwoarang would tell whoever whenever he felt ready, but as for now, he certainly wasn't ready to blurt out to the world 'I died and came back to life'.

He had eventually passed out, and when he woke up again he was staring at the white ceiling. So, they had made it. That was good, that means everyone could get checked up and everyone would be okay. The first few moments of his consciousness were blissful. He was light headed, tired, and couldn't feel a damn thing.

However, within a few moments, his back flared up, forcing him into a fully awakened state. Sienna eyes widened immediately, and he tried to sit up, groaning. Even that act though proved almost impossible to do because of the protests of his muscles. But he needed to sit up. Where was the damn lever or button thing that pulls beds up?

Though his hands didn't grasp the item, he still felt a little lifted. He didn't need to see who, "Thanks."

"It's okay," Razer murmured.

The new leverage didn't ease the pain. He forcibly bit his lip, trying not to make his pain apparent to anyone else in the room, and tapped the railing on his left with his fingers, both in boredom and distraction, "What time is it?"

"It is ten past ten in the morning…" Jin answered just as quietly as the question had been asked.

He nodded a little, still biting fiercely on his bottom lip. He could taste some blood, he realised, once his tongue darted behind the row of teeth in further distraction. The pain was hurriedly getting the best of him, to the point where his eyes were blurring due to the agony, and his head was continuously spinning. He knew that there was only one light above him, but with the way that the room was spinning at the moment, it appeared that there were ten.

Unable to stand it any longer, he released the suppressed, distressed whimper, released the hold he had of his lip, and shut his eyes tightly. His left hand curled around the bar, gripping it severely until his knuckles were a deathly white. He was sure one of the two called his name, though he couldn't hear it. Just focus on blocking out the pain. Just focus on… blocking out… the pain…

A very light touch to his right hand seemingly had it ease a little, if only mentally. He turned his hand up, locking his fingers with Razer's agonizingly. Movement on his right side was still difficult. He wasn't paralysed or anything, it was just that if he moved it would hurt like hell and further aggravate the wound. He tried to steady his breathing in hopes of making the ache less obvious, but it still wasn't working.

"Hwoarang?" the Japanese youth sounded, "Do you want me to get you a doctor?"

"No…" he gritted out stubbornly.

Both noticed the few tears bleeding from his eyes. Kazama spoke again, "You cannot suffer in silence."

"I'll manage."

Stillness swallowed the room for five solid minutes, sparing the steady beepings of the machine and the ragged breath of the wounded man in bed. The latter only seemed to increase in volume as the moments passed, which in turn worried the woman on his right. She too bit her lip in an effort to restrain any vocal distress, and merely expressed her concern through hurried and frequent glances at her best friend, along with squeezing his hand tighter.

It was an effort to speak, "**Razer?**"

"**What?**"

"**It hurts…**"

"**Really badly?**"

"**Yeah.**"

Sighing, she only increased her grip's strength, which in turn earned a brief clasp from his own.

"**Want a doctor?**" she pressed, echoing Jin's query from earlier.

He shook his head and exhaled firmly, "**No.**"

"**Please…**"

With effort, he summoned a smile and awkwardly patted her hand, wordlessly trying to tell her that he was fine, though there was no disguising the pain in his sienna eyes to the one who knew him best. He looked away after a few moments, staring at the ceiling once more, feeling that he had been too vulnerable to her for too long.

Jin furrowed his eyebrows slightly, though smiled nonetheless in silent awe. Two completely different languages were relayed back and forth in private conversation, and what was being said by one was understood by the other. They must have spent a lot of time showing the basics of their mother tongue, and a couple of stray words here and there.

"**Please?**"

The Japanese youth saw his fellow Asian hesitate for a moment, "**Not now.**"

He just wanted silence. He didn't want anyone to fuss over him, he didn't want to make others worry, he didn't want anything like that… He just wanted to lie here and appreciate the fact that he and his two fellow fighters were alive. That nothing really mattered, that there was nothing threatening going on, that the pain wasn't as bad as it was, that everything was fine, that it was all calm and… peaceful.

If only all of those things could fall into place individually and create this illusion. People were worried about him, Razer and Jin, he was barely alive and was still in a critical condition from the battle, the pain was horrendous and incapacitating, and things weren't as calm and peaceful as they should've been. They may as well have been hectic.

Hwoarang squeezed his eyes shut again and breathed out shakily, strengthening his grip on the woman's hand beside him as the pain's intensity sent him into a spiralling world. The urgency of all actions made it further apparent that the grip the pain currently had on the 21-year-old was too much for words to successfully conjure its strength.

Luckily enough, it was in that instant that the doctor arrived.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since that fateful evening.

"I said I'll be okay!"

"Don't be stupid."

The Blood Talon scowled in frustration, one arm slung over the jabbering youth. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from going off at her, for he knew it was guilt that was making her this way. It was in his best interests to keep off his feet and relax, but dammit, he had sat on his ass for two whole uneventful weeks!

"If anything starts to hurt as bad as it did on your first day of hospitalisation," Razer began, "I'm taking you back, alright?"

The stubborn reply sounded immediately, "No."

She turned her head away from him, still helping him limp up the stairs slowly and carefully, almost tripping up the bottom of the white dress for the third time. She tightened her hold on his left side, her fingers digging into his flesh uncomfortably and awkwardly, "Please."

"Raze," he remarked firmly, "Xiao invited all of us to this. I'm not sitting out."

"Technically you will still be sitting down."

"Shut it."

The occasion was to celebrate Jin's ascension to the Zaibatsu Throne, Hwoarang's recovery (despite the fact that it was currently in progress), and the end of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament 5, as well as other small things. Deciding that two weeks would be roughly enough time for the wounded to heal, they had scheduled for this 'bowling party' in the mall to be on the Saturday evening. The day had finally arrived.

Using his left hand to push open one of the two doors, Hwoarang slowly stepped in, still assisted by his best friend. The pair slid inside silently, and scanned around for Ling, who had promised that she would be waiting at the front desk with their shoes, and would lead them to where the others had assembled.

They eventually found the pink blur bounding hurriedly towards them in a happy mess, her excitable voice sounding over the poppy dance tunes that bounced between the walls, "Hey there guys, glad you could make it!"

"Took a while, but we got here," the 21-year-old grinned.

She grinned too, and before long, her arms stretched out, holding two pairs of shoes by their laces, "I guessed your sizes."

"I'm not bowling," he said.

"What? How come?"

"Don't wanna," he lied, looking at Razer from the corner of his eyes.

The Greek smiled whole-heartedly. He had thought on it a lot, she supposed. Come to the party, but don't bowl. Just sit around and allow himself to heal further. All it'd be was a change of scenery, being surrounded by people he cared about, instead of a nurse who kept trying to crack onto him, and a doctor who seemingly was only in it for the money.

"Raze?"

She blinked and looked at the Chinese girl before her, "Hm?"

"Are you coming or are ya just gonna stand there like a stunned mullet?"

She also grinned and followed the 18-year-old, helping her hobbling companion over to where the others enthusiastically waved their arms and called their names. A few of the other bowlers recognised them from the tournaments, but did not dare approach due to the manner of their arrival - still wounded, aggravated and limping.

Seong-Hada's voice easily rose above the rest, "GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUYS!"

Their now large group had been divided into three lanes, all of which were conveniently side by side. In the first lane was Christie, Eddy, Julia and Steve, who had started without them, though had paused. Surprisingly, Julia was leading the game so far. Lei and Baek were not bowling, though they were both sitting with them, the latter of the two intently watching his two students draw near.

The second lane simply had Seong-Hada and Asuka standing there impatiently, tapping their feet. There were two seats next to them, which the duo automatically understood were for them. They had not started their game, though it was clear that at any given second, one may crumble and bowl, and the other would soon follow.

The final one consisted of Jin and Miharu, the latter of which was minding Xiaoyu's things on the seat to her right. Jin was happily perched on his seat, one leg crossed over the other, and smiled when he saw the two of them look in his direction and either smile and wave in the case of the Greek, or flick his head in greeting in the case of the other.

"**Come on **_**Limpy,**_" Seong-Hada sneered teasingly, "**Get your ass over here and sit.**"

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes and in the same friendly manner, stuck his middle finger up at his younger companion. True to the nickname that had been bestowed upon him only moments ago, he limped towards the seats that had been saved for him and for the woman helping him get there. It was a relief when he sat down.

"Well, now that everyone's here, let's bowl!" Xiaoyu cheered, raising her hand in the air in a childish manner.

The fun had started off quite quickly for a majority of those there, sparing the three who were still hurt and tormented from previous actions. Jin was so phased out at one point that he almost tripped over his own shoes with the heavy bowling ball in his hand. Fortunately there was enough life in him to stabilize himself at lightning speed. Razer forgot several times which ball was hers, and when it was her turn.

As for Hwoarang, he was just sitting around. Whenever Razer came back from bowling her turn, he would automatically latch himself around her, and in turn, her right hand would jump to his wound, pressing lightly against it underneath the confinements of his shirt. He had said a few days ago that her touch soothed the pain a little, and she had made special note of that. Out of the three, he was having the most fun, cracking jokes here and there, and so on. It was clear that he was trying to forget the events as quickly as possible.

For the second lane, it was currently Seong-Hada's turn to bowl. He took a deep breath in and aligned himself, ready to go. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate. Asuka was beating him, and he couldn't have that. He was the self-professed 'Pwnastic Bowling King'. To have his title rattled, especially by a girl, did not please him.

As he stepped towards the line, he heard Hwoarang yell out, "**Penis!**"

There was a heavy thud, jittering laughter from himself, and the sound of coffee being spat out by Baek a few feet to his left. Across the three lanes, everyone snickered at Seong-Hada's antics, though were clearly wondering exactly what the 21-year-old had said that made him drop the ball. He turned on his heels, hands clenched firmly and pressed by his sides, and remarked, "**Did you **_**have **_**to say that?!**"

"**I dunno, it's a big penis.**"

"**Yes I do have a big penis, thanks for noticing. Now let me bowl,**" with that, he picked up the ball and turned around.

After a few moments of silence, Baek sneered teasingly, looking over his left shoulder, "**What happened, Talon?**" He brought the cup to his lips and happily sipped his coffee once more, before again, "**You were out done!**"

He did not smirk in return, nor bothered to lift his head from Razer's shoulder, "**I'm… not in the right head space.**"

The tone of his response concerned those closest to the Blood Talon. Amber eyes flicked up to the human pillow, and in response, she turned her head away, biting her lip. Nudging the man lightly, she stood up, walking over to grab her ball and have her turn quickly. She glanced back to see the younger of the pair watch her intently, silently and affectionately. The pain was obvious as well, sadly.

It evidently eased when she returned to his side and once again placed her hand on the wound. He let out a little sigh of relief against her neck, and rested his left hand on her thigh, patting it in wordless gratitude. Deciding to skip out on a few turns for his benefit, she slouched comfortably against her best friend, aware of the arm that had left and was now holding her around her waist. His right arm was around her front in a loose hug.

He wasn't just edgy and slightly sad because of the pain, either. There was another thing disturbing him deep inside, and it was also troubling the Japanese male sitting across from him. The reason that he was trying so hard to distract himself, and the reason that his ex-rival was as silent as a rabbit.

Now that the major life-or-death issue was well out of the way, there was plenty of time for all the little bullshit that made the days pass on. Namely, after everything they had been through together, through everything that had happened in the distant past, everything that had just happened and so on… who was going to get the girl?

Subconsciously tightening his hold on her, he inwardly sighed. This was a battle that he might not win.

"What are you thinking about?"

He lifted his head a little to see the person in question looking down at him, worry on her visage. He smiled a little and nuzzled his face against her neck lightly in silent affection, hoping to not make it terribly apparent to those who were around them. Thereafter, he rested his head on her shoulder, closed his eyes and answered, "Nothing."

"Are you sure…?"

He said nothing, biting his lip to restrain himself from doing so. That action alone had her understand.

You will need to talk with him sometime soon. Jin as well. You cannot simply inform one of your decision and leave the other crawling in the dark, looking for the answer.

_I know, _she replied to Angel quietly, placing her free hand on the muscular forearm of the man latched around her, softly stroking his skin, _I just… I still do not know what to do, and it is ridiculous. You would have thought that after all this time, I would've reached a point where I know what to do. I feel so idiotic._

Do not stress about your decision now, she answered softly, Enjoy your friends, enjoy your freedom and have fun.

She honestly tried, but her mind continued to crawl elsewhere, sowing seeds of dissent. Every time she attempted to focus on the fun aspect of tonight, the other factors would immediately attack, and she would be right back to square one. Angel attempted to help out, though her efforts were too in vain. It was noticeably upsetting.

Oh God, then there was the guilt, the stupid, motherfucking guilt over what had happened to Hwoarang. She tried so, so hard not to dwell on the fact that he was in _so much pain _because of _her. _Angel told her time and time again that there was nothing that she could've done to stop him from performing the selfless act. She even threw a couple of past memories at her from the various times they were on the streets together, echoing his words.

"_I'd die for you. A bullet to the head, a knife to the heart. You know that."_

That night where the oth –

"_You did it. Again. …Saved my life. You've done it more than once, physically like this, or not."_

And on the way home from –

"_You know I wouldn't be the same if it weren't for you. I wish there was some way I could save your life too._"

Unknowingly to her, the Blood Talon had picked up on her disheartened mood, and, hoping to counter act it, placed a light kiss on her shoulder, not caring if other people could see. He had been _more _affectionate than this around them in previous times. He didn't know why he was so cautious this time. It was only a silent 'its okay, forget about what happened, concentrate on the _now_, I'm still alive and being an idiot, nothing's coming after anyone anymore'.

He couldn't help but chuckle when Razer shivered on account of his affectionate action. Smiling, regardless of being hit upside the head, he closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his back, letting himself drown in the music that pumped through the speakers and soaked into every corner of the bowling alley.

He tried very hard to lose himself in the jokes and laughter around him, but like her, he just couldn't do it. The flashes from Xiaoyu's camera, at them and everyone else, went unnoticed. It, like the sounds being emitted, merely melded together, becoming almost unrecognisable. If he wasn't in so much pain, if he could focus on the happiness again, then he'd probably be laughing his ass off on account of Seong-Hada's actions too.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ling cried, wiping mirth-filled tears away from her brown eyes. Her left hand was idly clutching her camera by its side, and her finger was not very far away from the lens. She always got bitchy whenever someone touched the lens of her camera, though she was far too amused at the moment to notice how her finger got closer and closer. She was even contemplating on filming the ruckus.

Seong-Hada, still grinning, span away, seeking out more innocent 'victims' to harass. He skittered up towards a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, who appeared to be contemplating whether or not to grab the ass of the woman in front of him. Whether or not they knew each other was not entirely clear, though judging by the wolfish grin on his pale visage, this was unlikely.

It seemed the hand was just about to make contact when the young Korean distracted the obviously European man by talking in his native language at a million miles an hour, and very loudly, "**And just what are you going to do to this woman's butt? Okay fine it looks really, really nice; but do you really need to grab it? Look with your eyes, not with your hands!**"

The woman, surprised by the volume, turned her head over her shoulder and noticed exactly where this man's 'stray hand' was going. She furrowed her eyebrows, somehow recognising the man as a host from a Jerry Springer Style television program, and moved on to slap him hard, before walking away in a huff, leaving the complex.

"That is probably _the worst _slap that I've have received…" the man murmured in his British accent, frustrated.

"You're welcome!" Seong-Hada remarked firmly, snickering slightly thereafter, running off to the food bar now, both hands in his pockets. He was unaware of the harsh glare that was being sent his way, curtesy of the man he humiliated.

He looked back for a moment to see that the group's eyes were watching him, whether they were blue, brown or green. Pleased that his little 'distraction' had finally brought the three mopers out of their little silent-cry hole, he continued crossing from one side of the alley to the other, now eyeing a man and a woman at a table, eating.

They were quietly talking amongst themselves, sharing the odd laugh or two. They clearly weren't a couple, merely friends, considering their body language. The man, who was evidently Asian, looked older than the European woman, and wore a grin on his visage that erupted into a full, honest smile every few moments. He wasn't doing the talking, and even then his counterpart, who was smoothing out her sandy brown hair, was not overloading him on her talk.

Deciding to cause a liiiiiiiiiiiiittle more havoc, he casually strolled up to their table, observing their meals. The male had a hot dog, and the female was armed with… a delicious looking hamburger. He furrowed his eyebrows, wanting nothing more than to take that out of his hands and consume it himself. His endless love for hamburgers and milkshakes was like that of Razer's chocolate addiction, only… much, much worse.

Now behind them, he reached out an arm and took the lady's drink. Both people turned angrily, eyebrows furrowed, and looked up at him as he innocently took a sip of it, amber eyes looking up and to the right, as though determining what he thought of the beverage… which, by sheer and wonderful coincidence, was a vanilla milkshake. Sweet!

After the sip, he placed it back in front of the woman, who looked as though she was about to strike him, and _hard. _He had seen that look in the Greek's eyes before, and was slightly amused. Grinning sheepishly, the 19-year-old silently sighed with content, though put on a pretend, buff, authority-stricken voice, "**Alright, okay, the milkshake is clean! It's safe to drink; it's not poisoned or anything. You can continue drinking it.**"

"**What are you, the milkshake inspector?**" the man gruffly growled in Korean. At such close range, Seong-Hada noticed a menacing scar drip from the corner of his right eye and down to his jaw. It looked like the damage had been done in a knife fight. He'd know, of course, having been on the streets himself.

"**Or do you just waltz up to random people's tables and capture a part of their meal?**" the woman scolded, also in Korean, though it was not was steady as the man's. It was clear that she learnt the language on her own.

"**Ohhh, a bit of both,**" he answered in his normal voice with a wink, strolling off again with a goofy grin on his face, now making his way to a group of friends about four lanes to the left of theirs. They were a particularly noisy group.

His eyes settled on a quiet young girl, who was listening and smiling at everything said, though made no means to speak unless spoken to. She was playing with the end of her tattered long-sleeved shirt, her long, black hair coming down to her shoulders. To him, she looked sad in her seat, and a little lost. The rest of her friends looked like they were having loads of fun.

Deciding that this would be the last 'victim', he strolled over until he was standing right behind her, hands back in the warmth of his pockets once again. The other loud people didn't notice his presence, and he preferred it that way. He manoeuvred to her right, smirking, and looked up at her face, which morphed from bored to confused.

"Who are you?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow at his presence.

"_I'mmmmmm_ Seong-Hada baby!"

Wild screams and whoops suddenly filled the air, both near and far; from this girl's party and his party on account of the kiss on the cheek. The girl blushed wildly, eyes almost the size of dinner plates, and the confusion on her face only grew in size.

"Sanah?!" one of the girls exclaimed hyperactively.

Still smirking, Seong-Hada turned away, returning to his friends. His eyes drifted back to the three mopey ones and indeed found that they were laughing and smiling too. His mission complete, he settled back in his lane once the distance was crossed, casually picked up his ball and set up for another bowl, sighing triumphantly and exhaustedly to himself.

Asuka was the first to reign in the giggles, "Are you always this random?"

"Maybe."

The night continued on with more giggles and laughter, and Xiaoyu captured it all on her camera. She even managed to catch Steve picking his nose, somehow, though the fight to delete it afterward did not go in his favour. There was another photo of Christie and Eddy giving each other pretend-death glares, another of Jin laughing, another of Baek sipping his coffee, and even the classic 'Lei The Pimp' shot had been redone, this time featuring _all _women. And that was only the tip of the iceberg in regards to photographs taken so far.

Hwoarang eventually excused himself, claiming that he needed to take a leak (a flat out lie), and headed off a tad unsteadily towards the men's. He tried very hard to keep his limp unnoticeable, and even harder to not hold his back, all the while thinking, _Just keep calm and cool and don't let the pain get to you. Bite your tongue till it bleeds if you've gotta, but don't let them see you weak. Don't let them see you so damn weak…_

He threw the door open and stumbled in, looking around hurriedly in case there was anyone else inside. Noticing that the coast was clear, he lifted up the right side of his shirt up to his shoulder, and inspected the area that was giving him so much grief. The doctors and nurses had firstly stitched the wound, and then put a large, white, square 'dressing pad' on it, to stop it from constantly bleeding and to keep the dirt out of it. It was starting to bleed through, most probably due to him moving around so much. He had a couple of spares but… Meh. For now, meh.

Perhaps he should've listened to her and stayed behind. They would've understood, right?

Trying to keep his breathing under control was quite a task, he realised. Just looking at the damn thing made his stomach twist into a knot, just… _somehow _remembering being a spirit didn't really help the sick feeling in his stomach either. That feeling of wanting to throw up, coupled with the dizziness that suddenly arrived, and the fact that he was losing his vision and could hardly stand up; had him panic slightly, despite his disorientation. Was this because of the blood loss, the incalculable pain, or because he had been resurrected?

Before his legs went out from underneath him, he moved himself to a wall and closed his eyes, leaning against it heavily, pulling his shirt back over the wound. He could just rest here for a bit. Just rest here for a bit… for a… bit…

"Are you alright?"

The Blood Talon cracked one eye open and looked to his right, where an edgy Jin stood, "Does it look like I am?"

He smiled softly and looked to the mirror, observing the two of them for a good, long moment, noticing sienna eyes inspect as well, "Look at us. I worry for your safety and health, you let me. You talk civilly to me, I respond in turn. I offer my help, and you allow it. We stand in the same room, merely a few feet apart… and we are not at each other's throats. Fists are not drawn in defence, spiteful words are restricted, there are no threats… It is nice to not be wary of you for a change."

"I don't threaten friends, Jin."

The smile grew, "Considering you are on a first name basis with me, is it safe to assume I am your friend too?"

"I guess. To be perfectly honest… I… I don't know why I hated you so fucking much back then," Hwoarang finally confessed, a hand shooting to his back once more, "I was, and still am, pissed off that you screwed up my perfect record with a draw, but… I mean, I've lost now, so… I'm not after your blood I guess. I don't really care anymore. There are more important things in life than settling a stupid score. And… I was jealous of you."

His eyebrows rose, "You were jealous of me?"

"Yeah," the smirk that came was a tad diffident, "You had money, a good home, nice clothes on your back, food on the table everyday, a _good life_… You didn't worry about whether or not you would live the night to see the next day, like I did. I missed that so much. I struggled so hard to keep nine other people and myself alive. And everyday I remembered the life I had with Razer and Baek, and wanted nothing more than to have it back.

"Then I saw you and Xiao, after you hurt the one thing that kept me going through those times on the streets… I was pissed, I was _beyond _pissed. But besides that, I saw something else in you two that had the gears inside my brain turn, and my blood seethe with envy. I don't know how it affected me so much, but it did…"

"What did you see?" Jin asked, perplexed.

His smile faded a bit, "I saw us. What we had. What I wanted again."

"You and Razer?"

"Mhm."

"Do you not you understand? You _did _have that, _you do _have that."

The 21-year-old furrowed. He sat up a little taller, though still pressing his form against the wall.

In turn, the new head of the Mishima Zaibatsu leant against the sink, his hands by his sides, and cleared his throat, "So we had it 'better' off then. Money, an empty, cavernous mansion, clothes that _aren't _durable, food we didn't like on the table everyday, a _caged _life… Granted I did not have to spend every moment awake and afraid, wondering if a part of my 'family' was going to be shot dead today. I did not have to keep anyone else alive but myself, keep Devil away from Xiaoyu, and to a lesser extent, Miharu as well.

"But even in those times where I thought I couldn't bear the torment any longer, I had my anchor holding onto my arm and dragging me away to a carnival in the darkest times. I am sure in the times when you mourned Baek's 'death', you had Razer holding onto you body as you trembled, saying that everything would be okay, saying that this wasn't the end. And it was not.

"What you saw were two fighters who care about one another more than anything in the world. Best friends, metaphorical brother and sister, laughing and carrying on, exploring a new place together. Someone to count on to make the other smile when they were down so low. What you saw was mirrored. Two fighters who care about one another more than anything in the world. Best friends, metaphorical brother and sister, laughing and carrying on, doing their very best to keep themselves alive until times got easier. Covering the other's back for protection and offering nothing but dedicated love.

"And your reason for persistent hatred, as much as you do not want to admit it, would be the fact that I was a contestant to her feelings. You held onto yours, kept them inside, pushed them away; for so many solid years. And just as you are ready to open up your mouth and tell her how you really feel… I took your chance. And for that I'm sorry. I thought you had spoken already, or something. Teenagers and their… to put it kindly… fucked up logic."

"…You're still in the running for the prize," Hwoarang murmured lowly, lifting his left hand, looking at the ring.

There was silence for a solid minute.

"Good luck."

The Japanese man smiled a little, "You too."

His ex-rival smirked slightly in turn.

"Are you a little more stable to go back inside now?" he pressed, "She is worried about you."

"Yeah."

The two friends left, one limping, the other hovering nearby in case his assistance was required. It was a moderately slow journey back to the others, and by the time they had returned, only those closest had realised that they had left in the first place. Just goes to show how wrapped up in their fun they were, which was good. No worries, all fun.

Someone who had noticed the limp of the Blood Talon was the little girl with pigtails. She monitored him for a good ten minutes, and noticed particularly how he seemed hardly mobile, less at ease, less comfortable, when Razer was not holding him. This in itself was confusing. Exactly what happened to the three of them? Why had they gone so quiet?

Finally, Ling spoke up, her voice hovering over the music, "Who wants food?!"

Everyone looked up towards her, facial expressions varying from Seong-Hada's 'hamburger-wanting' stare, to Eddy's 'I'm-not-that-hungry' expression, to Asuka's 'foooooood-yay!' appearance, to Baek's 'I-need-more-damn-coffee' look, to Julia's 'that's-a-damn-good-idea' gaze… and everything in between for everyone else.

"Well, the line's like… teeny tiny now. So if you're hungry, go get something quickly!"

Reluctantly (sparing Seong-Hada, Asuka and a few others), they all stood up, stretched around and trudged off towards the vending machines and chefs. The Chinese girl grinned as they went, putting her camera back in her bag. Her smile faded a little when she realised that aside from Hwoarang himself, Razer and Jin had remained behind.

_So much for trying to get him on his own, _she growled inwardly.

Her frustration did not last long when Athane spoke softly to the man in question. At the care in her voice, Xiaoyu couldn't help but smile and let the aggravation melt away, "Are you sure you don't want anything aside from a coke?"

"Quite," the Korean replied, patting her thigh, "Thanks."

It appeared she was going to speak again, but stopped, her leaf green eyes drifting to the left, looking straight at Jin. His own face appeared to be a thoughtful one. Within a few moments, the Greek looked back to her best friend, "I'll get it once I'm done talking with Jin, alright? I'm sure you can survive without coke for a _liiiittle _while longer."

"But I'm going to die of coke-deprivation!" he whined dramatically, though his playful expression betrayed his voice.

She smirked and ruffled his hair (much to his protests) and stood, following Jin towards the entrance of the bowling alley to have a private conversation about God-knows-what. Sienna eyes trailed their leave, and despite himself, Hwoarang couldn't help but notice the large smile on his face. He was perplexed by it for a moment, but didn't make any attempt to wipe it off.

Even at a distance, he could still see her smiling, and him too. They were happy. They were _always _happy together. For a long time, he had questioned himself as to why he objected her being with Jin, aside from his own pure selfishness. Though, no matter how long he questioned, he never got an answer. He just wanted her to himself. He knew they'd be happy, no matter what. But he didn't really understand why he was so _desperate _to keep her to himself.

It didn't matter, did it? _Their own_ love was strong enough to go through everything, to survive through everything. And at the drop of a hat, they could probably get into their relationship as though there had been no one else before hand. At any given time or place or… yeah. It'd work. It always was strong enough. It _always _was strong enough. There was no need to fight it.

_I hope you're happy with him, _he thought to himself, still smiling, looking up to the ceiling, _And I'm being honest. I don't want you to hold anything back just because I've been there for eight years. Pretend you don't know either of us, and that we're just two random guys in the street that you think are hot, and would like to bang. Wait… the hell am I saying this to myself? I've already told you this, Raze. I just hope you listened to me._

"Rang?"

He tilted his head to the right, seeing Xiaoyu sitting next to him with a soft smile on her face, "Heya Pigtails."

She grinned and gave him a light hug. It did not surprise her that he didn't return it, "Are you enjoying the 'party'?"

"Yeah. It's funny, and nice to get out. Especially when SH decides to go around and be a dickhead to people… Though I have the feeling that this isn't why you came over. You're not one for small talk usually. So… uh… What's up?"

"Actually," the 18-year-old began, fiddling with her wrist band, "I came to ask what's up with _you._"

"Nothing," he answered immediately.

"Please don't lie to me Hwoarang. You're one of my closest friends. I… don't want you to lie to me, I don't want you to sugar coat any of this… Just… tell me what's wrong. Why were you _really _in hospital for two weeks? What's wrong with your back? Even now, why do you have a pained expression? What is _wrong _with you…?"

He hesitated for a good, long moment and looked around, noticing that everyone was still off doing their own thing. Seong-Hada had even started to harass the man and woman he had come across earlier, though if he didn't stop soon, it looked as though he was about to receive a punch to the face. Julia was trying to pull them apart, Lei was threatening police action if any physical attacks were thrown, and Baek was just shaking his head. Christie and Eddy were chatting, and Steve was looking towards Jin and Razer. Miharu was ordering food for herself.

The Blood Talon looked back to her, "Promise me you _will_ _not _tell _anyone_… Not Baek, not Seong-Hada, not Miharu…"

She was about to find out the source of his pain, "You have my word."

Taking a deep, deep breath in, he sat up and gripped the bottom of his shirt, "Come and stand on my right."

Xiaoyu did so, squatting on her knees, already seeing the bottom of a white object. She bit her lip curiously and looked up to her fellow Asian one last time, noticing how he squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his shirt up all the way. He seemed to know her reaction, how she gasped and covered her mouth with both her hands, stared at the amount of blood piling up on the damn thing, and then, everything about how he was tonight made complete sense.

"Jinpachi did this to you…?" she murmured. Her face was a cross between a scowl and a sad frown.

He dropped his shirt quickly and opened his eyes, "Yeah. It's worse without the cover."

"I don't even know what it looks like but… whatever he did… It looks good enough to kill you. How did you survive…?"

Hesitate. Biting lip. Look away.

"…I didn't."

Xiaoyu looked up with furrowed eyebrows, though her brown eyes were large and wide, "Don't pull my leg."

"I'm not."

Clearly confused, her ramblings began to mush together, barely making sense to the man she was speaking to, "He killed you…? But… how is it possible that you're sitting right here, then?! That's just… Just… but… Huh? _What?_"

He clenched his fist, trying to cope with the pain once more. It continued to flare as he spoke, crawling up his entire body in the process, "Do you remember Jin and Razer's match? How they changed into those… things?" A small nod was his answer, "Do you remember some of the things that… Jin's devil thing said to Razer's when she had changed?"

_His voice was terrifying to her ears, like a thousand screams of death and a pleased cackle for each, all in one. She breathed in and out, not quite understanding how Jin was able to contain such a horrid beast for all these long, lonely, laborious and lurid years, __You should know better than to believe the promises of the devil, _Angel_._

Ling eventually answered, though she was unsure of herself, "A-Angel?"

"Yup. That's not really what Razer's… thing… looked like. It was corrupted. So that's why she always went to Raven. They had a cure for her, and it worked. So the thing inside of her isn't a demon anymore, it's an angel. No more tormenting my best friend, just soothing assistance, which I'm fanatic about. But anyway… she brought me back."

"How cliché. That sounds like something directly out of a fan fic or something."

"Call it cliché, but I'm one fucking lucky guy to have another chance at life."

As she smiled, he grimaced, sucking in a big breath. His right hand shot towards his back and pushed harshly, trying to reduce that damn throbbing, anything to reduce it and the burning and the twitching and the aching and the head spinning and the –

She placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice riddled with worry, "Rang? You okay?"

"I'm not even going to _dignify_ that with a _remark_," he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut, leaning forward.

Xiaoyu sat up a little taller and looked around. Biting her lip, she eagerly looked over towards Razer's direction, hoping to catch her attention without yelling out and, in the process, get _everyone's _attention. Maybe she could text her? No no, the Greek's phone was just over there with everyone else's… There was no choice but to –

Hurried foot steps soon sounded. She looked straight ahead to see the woman she was waiting for coming back, having noticed the condition of her best friend. With a sigh of relief, Ling stood and spoke, "I didn't know what to do."

"There's nothing you could have done," the 20-year-old replied sadly, glancing at the Chinese youth for a moment while placing her left hand over the injury once more. The other hand was currently trying to have the Korean uncurl, "If you sit up, you will feel better. This is stretching it, making it hurt and bleed more… It is not helping. Come on, sit up."

To Ling's dismay, she heard the man release a choked sob. _Hwoarang. _Of all people. Whimpering and crying in pain, like a child. The resident 'tough guy', the one who kept all of his emotions underneath an iron shield and known only to a few people… like this. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. But it wasn't right.

Jin soon joined them, standing nearby. After a few moments, he left, heading for a nearby vending machine, most probably going to get a can of coke on behalf of Razer for Hwoarang. Xiaoyu's brown eyes followed his form go, though she was still 'in tune' enough to hear the light murmurs nearby.

First a feminine voice, "Shh… Its okay, its okay."

"It hurts…" and then another male whimper.

"I know."

"Make it go away…" big, shaky breath in, "Please, _please…_"

"…I can't…"

The desperate pleas even had the 18-year-old slowly crack, so only God must know how bad Athane was tearing up inside. Deciding that it would be best to leave them alone, Xiaoyu stood, taking her hand away, and left, going towards the others in hopes of delaying them from returning to their lanes. It was here that she noticed suspicious glances from Baek, Seong-Hada and Miharu, the three who had known them for a fair while too.

"Can't you do _anything?_" Hwoarang whispered.

"No," she replied sadly, still slowly having him uncurl, "Just a little further, I want your back to be against the chair."

Biting the bullet, he did as instructed swiftly, holding back a scream. Even then it was too much, so he decided to lean forward a little, almost slouching against his best friend. Trembling in his seat, he restrained any further words that wanted to dribble out, and focused on his breathing and on the small energy that seemed to come from the hand on his wound.

Razer pressed her forehead to his, "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"This."

"It's not your fault."

"But… You are suffering like this because of _me._"

"I'd rather go through all this than know you're dead."

They did not speak of the events that transpired two weeks ago or anything related to it for the rest of the night.

Fly free, Angel said to both of them, Live today, know that you have long, full days ahead of both of you.

Two tears, one from each counterpart, one in agony and one in sadness, slowly slid down.

Remember yesterday. Embrace tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Schnazzy, eh? XD This didn't take so long, surprisingly. lawl. But anyway, there were a couple of cameos in here, so I'ma list 'em by name and who they belong to. Because it's the right thing to do ;) See it as my little 'thank you' gift, because the three people did a lot for me with the story, whether its by standing by me since the start, or for letting me bitch about how hard it was to finish this damn thing -.-

The British man, who is named _**Jay, **_belongs to AngelEyes87.  
The man and woman, who are named _**Scar**_ and _**Faith**_ respectively, belong to AmberAnodyne.  
Lastly, _**Sanah **_belongs to… well, _is _TeaC0sy. Lawl.

Anyway, both Epilogues will be posted sometime soon and together. Then I'm gonna take a break from this damn series to get more of _Take Me Back _fleshed out. Until then, my pretties, cya, and thank you :)


	42. Epilogue One, Jin: Tale

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** What's this? A quick update? Yup, your eyes are not deceiving you. I don't wanna sound like a… what's the word… party-pooper or anything but I am so sick of this story, I just want to get it all out of the way RIGHT NOW o.o So then the stupid thing can be finiiiished! X] Anyway, still taking in your yes/no opinions on whether or not to do a _**Tekken 6 Story. **_If you haven't already, lemme know what you reckon :P Thanks for sticking by me guys :)

So here is the first epilogue. Considering I had absolutely _nothing _for it when I started this whole series, I'm pretty damn pleased with how it turned out X] I'm still not a big fan of it, I _much _rather the second epilogue.

* * *

**NOTE:** _This is __**Jin Kazama's Epilogue. **__To see __Hwoarang's,__ go to the next chapter._

* * *

_**Epilogue One: Tale**_

"**What do you think of this one? It's big, spacious, sturdy, and it appears to be well looked after.**"

Baek Doo San furrowed his eyebrows. His arms were folded across his chest, and his brown eyes scanned up and down the building that he and his newest student were standing in front of. He and Seong-Hada had been out and about, looking around all the streets of Tokyo, both in the city and the suburbs. Buildings great and small, wooden and brick, had crossed their paths, but none was as… cosy and attention-grabbing as this one that was for sale.

They were looking for a new dojang. Or, as the Japanese called it here, a 'dojo'.

"**I like this,**" Baek replied, clicking his tongue. He looked to the 19-year-old ahead of him, "**It is, as you said, large, roomy, well-built, and clearly has been taken care of. Not only that but it's in a quiet street, there are shops nearby… the mall that you and I both know is only about half an hour or so away. There's a school about forty minutes in the opposite direction. This is a nice location to start up classes.**"

"**And a home?**" he pressed in silent anxiousness, fiddling with his hands behind his back.

He nodded, smiling whole-heartedly, "**And a home, for the four of us. You, me, Hwoarang and Razer, all under one roof…**" The realisation suddenly hit him. His eyes widened,"**Oh geez, I am going to have my hands full again! More so **_**now **_**than **_**before!**_** Prying one from beating the other up, telling one to apologise for taking something, preventing further verbal assault… Can you please be well behaved? **_**Please**_**? I know you are all adults but even adults act increadibly childish.**"

Seong-Hada sat up straight and saluted playfully, accidentally changing into English, "Sure thing, Master!"

"**Did you change languages deliberately?**"

"**Oh, sorry… I do it all the time. You should've seen when I first learnt how to speak English. Hwoarang was getting so frustrated with me then… Razer just thought it was funny. Anyway!**" He paused for a moment before continuing on, "**…I wonder what I could bring to you guys that you didn't have before the… unpleasantness. Hwoarang's always said he can't cook… Razer can… **_**kinda… **_**cook… Can **_**you**_** cook?**"

"**Somewhat, though my dishes are not up to a chef's standard.**"

"**Okay, I'll be the resident chef then! I'll make your taste buds orgasm with every meal!**"

Doo San chuckled, tapping his upper arm with his index and middle fingers individually, "**Seong-Hada, I have not even purchased the building… Do not promise us such heavenly food **_**juuuuuuuuust**_** yet.**"

The student grinned, "Better get out your check book then! I know you're _dying _to taste my dak bulgogi!"

"Your take on the 'chicken fire-meat' will be most interesting… And stop changing languages!"

"**But, but… You just did too!**"

"**It's your fault,**" the 48-year-old teased lightly, smiling, "**Come inside with me so we may inspect the place further. Once we're done with the paper work, let's go back to the airport. The others will be leaving today.**"

* * *

Xiaoyu quickly flipped through the photographs in her hands, checking that they were all there. This packet was held in her hand, whilst the other twelve were pressed against her chest, and they had already been flipped through. To her right was Miharu, who was paying, and was holding onto her chocolate milkshake.

"**So that's all of them?**" the man asked gruffly, snatching the money from Miharu's hands.

There was a slight pause before the Chinese girl looked up and nodded, "**All there! Thanks!**"

The two turned away and started to head out of the mall, going towards the airport at a leisurely pace. She placed all the packets into her back pack, before taking her drink from her best friend, a childish grin on her face. Hirano noticed, and as she sipped on her water, she asked, "**What's with that smile? That's like the smile you used to get whenever you saw Jin walk by.**"

She lightly shoved her fellow 18-year-old, "**You didn't hear? Not everyone's going. We're not going to be split up like the past two times. Steve, Christie, Eddy, Julia and Lei are going back home, but the others are staying here in Tokyo! Grandpa's staying here with me. Even Asuka's transferring from her school in Osaka at the start of next year! Once her Father's all healed and everything.**"

"**They **_**did **_**catch the assailant, right?**"

"_**Duh. **_**It was Feng Wei. He's going back with Lei to China. There's some other guy going with them though. He's got like… dark brown hair, a large brown trench coat, goofy glasses that are almost as big as crackers, and so on. You know, I think he was around here last tournament too!**"

Miharu pursed her lips in thought, "**I think I remember seeing him a few times…**" she shrugged and continued speaking, "**It's good that they caught him though. Hopefully he'll wind up in a smelly old cell.**"

Ling jumped slightly, the chorus of 'Choosey Lover' by DBSK sounding from her phone. Someone was ringing. Fumbling in the pocket of her dark blue shorts, she withdrew the item and spoke without checking the ID, "**Hellooo?**"

"WE HAVE A HOUSE!!"

"Seong-Hada?" she inquired, raising a thin eyebrow, looking at Miharu.

"Yeah yeah yeah!" he answered hyperactively. In the background, Baek was heard laughing, "We've got a house – well technically it's a dojang – and we're gonna live in it and stuff! You've gotta come and look once the others have left, it's awesome! Big and shinyand –"

"Shiny?"

"…'Shiny' means 'good', right?"

"On the internet it does I guess…" Miharu noticed this and snickered.

"Well whatever. It's _awesomeeeee! _I can't believe it, a real house!"

Xiaoyu smiled whole-heartedly. He had often told her many stories about living on the streets, and they were not pleasant. Finally, after five years of homelessness, five years of being at the very bottom of society, the youth had a house. She loved hearing him happy, because it always made her happy too. Christie had suggested going out with him a couple of times already, as their personalities are 'positively identical! Imagine your children, they'll never get depressed and try to cut themselves, or get super pissed off and try to kill you!'.

He spoke again, "The mall's not far from it either, and neither is a school! Kids! Business! _Yay! _Maybe I can get a job as a janitor there or something… Ew but… gotta start somewhere, right? Anyway we didn't see what the school was, but we walked by it. I swear I saw this massive, golden statue of Heihachi Mishima inside the gates…"

"Are you serious?" Ling exclaimed, eyes wide, "That's my school, where Miharu and I go to!"

"You have to walk by a giant statue of an old fart every morning?"

Her voice turned flat, "Yeah."

"Mm… Creepy."

She quirked an eyebrow, turning a corner, now following her friend's lead to the airport, "A janitor at Mishima High, huh? We could see each other everyday and stuff! I heard the pay sucks though, like… badly."

"I doubt I'll probably work there anyway. Maybe a grocery store…"

"Awww… I'm disappointed in you!" Now she wouldn't be able to see him everyday. Damn!

"…What?"

"Nothing," she replied in an innocent, teasing voice. Soon enough, the airport came into view, and she cleared her throat, speaking once more, "Hey, how long are you gonna be? Mi and I are almost at the airport already."

"Um… Just a sec…" his voice left the phone, becoming a jumbled assortment of Korean words, before he spoke again, but in English, to her, "Probably about five or ten minutes. Stall them if they're there. Anyway, see ya!"

She smiled and placed the phone back in her pocket, skipping forth to catch up with Miharu once more. Within a few moments, the two of them were talking between one another once more, until they came up to the waiting area, their brown eyes scanning for their friends. Any of their friends, whether they were leaving or not.

Soon enough, Miharu identified a set of blonde hair and called out, "Steeeeeeeeeeeeeve! Over here!"

The Brit lifted his head and looked around rapidly, searching for the source of the noise. Soon enough his eyes settled on the pair and he stumbled over, bag slung over his shoulder, and another in his hand (which clearly did not belong to him). His smile was wide and bright, and only seemed to get wider when he stood before his two shorter friends, "Heya!"

"Hi 'mate'," Hirano grinned, waving.

Xiaoyu asked, "Hey, where are the others? Are you the only one here?"

"Yeah, me and Aunt Anna are the only ones from our… 'group'… here. She's in the loo, and asked me to hold her bag."

"A _stunning _combination of everyone's favourite blonde-haired, blue-eyed boxer… with a prissy, pink, delicate, flowery, _feminine_ bag hanging off his arm," Miharu taunted with a teasing smile, "Is there something you're not telling us?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Nah. You're strange Mi, but you wouldn't be the same without that quirkiness."

Taking the pleasant silence as an opportunity, Xiaoyu took off her back pack and dumped it at her feet. She quickly purged through the now open section, and grabbed the photo packet that she intended to give to Steve. Smiling, she stuck it out to him with both hands, "I did this for everyone at the third tournament… But there was so much going on at the forth that I didn't have time. Take this with you, so if we never meet again, we'll always remember the insane times we shared."

The 21-year-old smiled whole-heartedly and took it with his free hand, putting it in his bag, "Thanks Xiao."

The three spoke amongst themselves about joyous events that had transpired, as well as silly things here and there. Before long, the rest of their friends arrived. First Seong-Hada and Baek, then Christie and Eddy, then Jin and Asuka, and lastly Razer and Hwoarang.

Ling craftily produced photographs for each of the people, wearing a simple smile during the process. Laughs were exchanged, as were stories new and old, and so on. Baek and Anna remained quiet throughout (as was Wang, who had stumbled into them in his search for Xiaoyu), only pitching in silently where necessary. Ah, youth. And to think that a long time ago, they were the same, carrying on and on like this amongst other participants that were elsewhere, be it in line for a ticket such as Paul, unfortunately dead like Jun, or long since stopped caring about the tournament, such as Kunimitsu.

"Come on, you. Move it!"

They turned, seeing Lei and another man, who two immediately identified as Detective Burton, shoving Feng Wei towards the plane that would go towards China. His trial would be held there, despite the fact that the assault happened in Japan. Lei briefly waved at them all, trying to shoo away his fellow Chinese person, who was armed with photographs for him.

Meanwhile, Detective Burton was still shoving Feng, violently tossing aside someone who had badgered him about what was going on. He was clearly drunk, as his friends nearby shouted 'Johno!', his name, and dragged him away, apologising, dragging one another way away from the clearly frustrated man.

The events had a majority of them rolling their eyes.

Eddy, who was distracted with other thoughts, missed most of what was transpiring at the time. A light touch to his left shoulder, curtesy of Jin, had him come back to the group for a little while, if only to form one sentence, despite the fact that it was related to his problem, "Jin, can I speak with you privately?"

Perplexed, the new CEO of the Mishima Zaibtasu looked around, trying to find a private place, and waved his hand, instructing the man to follow. Their footsteps were swift, leading them to a secluded area, where they were free of all possible listeners. The Japanese youth spoke, his voice still soft and low, "What is it?"

He hesitated for a moment before talking, "Do you know why Christie and I joined the Tournament this time?"

"No, I cannot say that I have any knowledge of your reasons…"

"Our Master's dying. Well… her Grandfather, my Master, you get the idea. We entered, hoping we could win and provide a cure for this sickness he has. The doctors back in Brazil haven't given him long. And now that we've lost we basically… don't really have any idea what to do… You're our friend, Jin," he remarked, looking up, moving his dark brown dreadlocks out of the way, "Can you help us? He's a good man, he's still got a while in him."

Kazama looked down, folding his arms across his stomach. He furrowed his eyebrows in thought, pondering what he could do for them. Now that he owned the Zaibatsu, he practically had control of Japan, in one way or another, as well as some form of influence in all parts of the world through the company. He knew all too well of the pain of losing a loved one. But in his situation, he couldn't do anything. Maybe he could do something here.

"I'll tell you what I will do…" he began, looking up with a light smile, "I will transfer him here, to Japan, under my medical division, and I will fund the research and have my scientists search until we have found this cure. Is this acceptable?"

It appeared as though Gordo's smile was about to fall off of his face. He respectfully bowed, the smile refusing to leave, "Thank you so much Jin. I owe you one, big time. Is there any way that I can make it up to you?"

He smiled a little, "No need, no need."

"Well if you need anything, you know who to call."

With that said and done, the two returned to their friends. They plastered smiles to their faces and excused their sudden absence, getting themselves back into the chatting side of things as much as possible before yet another farewell.

The inevitable soon came, "Flight 456 to Brazil, and flight 179 to England will be leaving shortly. Flight 380 for China has departed."

The three leaving individuals hurriedly set out for their good byes, Christie throwing herself at Xiaoyu and Miharu tearily, Eddy giving a friendly leaving wave to everyone (and thereafter promptly turning away, heading towards the plane), and Steve patting every male on the shoulder and giving a light, hurried hug to every woman.

He was unable to control his smile when he came to Razer, "I'm so proud of you."

Perplexed, she quirked an eyebrow and inquired, "Why?"

"Well… you've changed a considerable amount. At the start of the 4th Tournament, when I met you, you were so anti-social, so quiet, so… _far away, _and just… lost_. _You were _so lost, _love. I could've waved a thousands pieces of your favourite food in front of your face, or the most attractive man in the world, or your worst enemy, or an alien, or I could've threatened to bowl you over with a stone boulder… you just _would not_ budge. Despite your progress, you reverted back to that same girl because of the… unpleasantness… near the end of the tournament.

"And now? Look at you. You're not as cold, you're not far away or lost. You're smiling. You're _happy. _If I dangled a thousand pieces of chocolate before you, you'd snatch it up, for sure; and I had somehow gathered enough strength to lift Marduk and hold him up in front of you, I'm sure you'd beat him to bloody pulp. _You're living. _And it's just wonderful to see. For that I'm proud of you, because you're not letting anything hold you back from what you deserve."

She smiled at his statement, "None of that would have happened if you didn't make the effort when we first met at the airport, and it wouldn't have continued on if you did not show me such unyielding support… Be it from keeping me in tact near the end of the 4th Tournament with your sincerity, or allowing me into your home. Thanks for your kindness."

He grinned whole-heartedly before patting her on the shoulder and turning away, leaving with Christie.

A few minutes later, they saw the planes climb up into the sky and leave, going their separate ways. Those who remained watched in silence, knowing that the friends on those packed aircrafts would indeed be seen again one day.

Asuka nudged Xiaoyu, who then spoke quietly, "Hey, Jin?"

A light 'hmm' was his verbal response.

"Promise you'll hold the tournament soon, so we can see them again."

He smiled.

* * *

_Recipient: Rocheford Enterprises__  
Amount: ¥83,752,496__  
Cheque Number: 104085  
__Deliverer: Mishima Zaibatsu  
Signed: Kazama Jin, _かざまじん

He glared at his signature for a moment, questioning why there was a giant line going down the paper from the hiragana 'n'. With a frustrated growl, he tore out the cheque from his book and crunched it up, tossing it in the bin beside him, cursing the phone nearby that had scared him and made him screw up his signature. He moved to write down all the details once more, and extended his left hand, picking up the device, "**Hello?**"

"**Mr Kazama, there is someone here to see you. Shall I send her away?**"

"**No, send her in,**" he replied to his receptionist, closing the phone after hearing a brief 'yes, sir' from the other side. He rested his head in his left hand, checking over the facts and figures of this new cheque for Rocheford Enterprises one last time. He tore it out, placed it on the complete pile, and began writing another one for another company.

The door creaked closed quietly, and soft, unsteady foot steps grew nearer and nearer. Jin smiled slightly to himself, crossing one leg over the other, and continued writing, pretending to ignore the person in the room. He waited until the individual was three or so feet away from his desk before he spoke, albeit mentally, '_Were you hoping to scare me?'_

'_I was hoping to surprise you,' _Razer replied, leaning forward, inspecting his work, '_What are you doing?'_

'_Giving out money to other companies,' _he stated, tearing out this cheque, placing it in the 'done' pile. He looked up to the Greek and tilted his head slightly, smiling, '_And what are _you _doing? Should you not be looking after Hwoarang at Baek's dojang? I know he has not completely recovered yet, though he acts as though he has.'_

'_Baek'll put him into line if he decides to be an idiot,' _she turned away and spotted a nearby chair. She moved to sit, swivelling it so it was facing towards her close friend, and tapped her fingers on the arm rests, '_It has been just over a month since the incident, though. He's healing up quite well. The scab is almost gone.'_

He nodded and returned to his work, '_That is good.'_

'_Yeah.'_

They were silent for a fair while. The Greek looked around his office, inspecting it in boredom. It briefly reminded her of her Father's office, all prim, proper and tidy, the one time he had decided to take her into his work during her school holidays because her Mother was sick. A rare act of kindness amidst a horrid storm.

Though those times had been burnt into her soul, they no longer stung.

Cleansed, healed so that all that is left to bear is a scar, not an ache.

Her leaf green eyes fell upon his desk, which was very out of place compared to the rest of the room. Atop the wood were mountains of unorganised paper, scattered this way and that. Most of them were on the right side of the desk, though, so they did not obstruct her vision of the working man. The work closest to her was a slowly building pile of cheques, as well as a pile of forms yet to be filled out.

Near those items was a pencil holder, which was being put to good use with pens, obviously bought for him by Xiaoyu however long ago. And, as suspected, there was a panda decorated on the cylindrical object, its form outlined with pink glitter. She had to admit that she was slightly surprised that he used such an item for work. It would certainly confuse the workers who would enter and decide to observe his desk, for whatever queer reason.

"That is one of the presents that Xiaoyu gave me for my 16th birthday."

"It's an interesting… design."

Jin chuckled slightly, "At the time, my desk was littered with pens and pencils from my school work, and I could never find them, let alone one that had ink and worked. So she made that for me to keep the area nice and neat."

"I don't think that really carried over into the office situation," Athane lightly teased, gesturing to the state of the work space.

"I know, I know…" he smiled and stared at the meaningless mess before his eyes, "She also made me a cake, bought me two shirts, bought me the folders I had been whinging about and made me some gloves, all for the one birthday. She said that she had trouble deciding on something, so she compiled a small assortment of gifts for me."

"Thoughtful. Any time Hwoarang couldn't think of anything to get me, he voluntarily became my slave for a day."

"Slave?"

"Oh, you know," she grinned and leant back in the chair, "Make my bed, tidy my room, do my chores, cook for me, and so on…" Pausing, she looked at her hands, "And when we were on the streets, if he couldn't afford something, for whatever occasion, he'd take me out to this little 'place'. Past all the buildings there was a hill… It was large and isolated. Behind it was the city, but in front of it was a river. We'd just hang out there. It was nice."

Jin turned his head and looked to her, slightly perplexed, "That doesn't sound like him at all."

"Feelings can inspire the most unlikely person to do the most spontaneous things."

"True."

Silence took hold again, steering the conversation to a dead end. Both knew where the talk wanted, _needed _to go, but both knew that it would take some time getting there, and that it was not exactly an easy topic to speak of in the first place. The grounds were still shaky and unsteady. Time was a key essence in stabilising the scene.

The 21-year-old took up his pen once more and started to scribble down another cheque. So many people had come to the Zaibatsu for financial assistance. There were many counts of bankruptcy, which he fleetingly remembered hearing on the news. He was somewhat surprised that they had come here for help. He wasn't surprised, though, when he found practically all cries for help unanswered, thanks to Heihachi and Jinpachi.

Speaking of Heihachi, he had come up to the Zaibatsu at least four times now, demanding it back. Each and every time, he was escorted out of the area by his Tekken Force, much to his displeasure. His Grandfather swore vengeance, and promised that he would 'get everything back'. Well, 'good luck' to him, then. Jin would not be surprised if the man died within a few years, because it was clear to everyone that that was all he had left in his withering form.

Just as he was putting this cheque on top of the others, he was bumped over to the right. The paper fell short of his light toss and landed half-slanted. Looking further to his left, he realised Razer had wheeled this chair over and moved him aside, so she could sit next to him, instead of sitting alone at the other side.

'_Your aim is horrible,' _she taunted, picking up the flimsy item, neatly placing it on top of the others.

'_It is your fault, you bumped me.'_

'_Have a cry, Jin.'_

He grinned and leant back, drumming his fingernails on his desk, _'You are staying here, correct? What are you going to do about your home in Greece?'_

'_I called my friend and asked her to rent the place out. She can keep the money.'_

'_But it is your home… Should the profit not be given to you?'_

'_Think of it as… repayment for my plane ticket back to Engla -… What's this?'_

He noticed her expression change from a smirk to a silently stunned one. Curious, he followed her line of sight, coming onto a photo of the Greek beside him and Ling, from the third tournament. In the image, Xiaoyu was playing with the other girl's hair, trying to turn it into a replica of hers. The look on Razer's face always amused him. It was a cross between murderous and 'aw man'.

"You still have this?" she asked, taking it from its place on the table. Her fingers skimmed over the frame.

Kazama chose his words carefully, "Why would I have disposed of it?"

"I dunno. You could've resented me from what I did to you or something."

"I didn't resent you, I resented myself…" he replied hesitantly, taking the other photo off the desk. This one was of Jun. He held it tightly and looked down on it, "All I had in those times were memories of the three most important people of my life… and that is what kept me going through the darkness. My Mother, my best friend and my former girlfriend. Just remembering all those times kept me stable and helped me push through."

"I'm sorry for what I did."

"Don't be. It was my stupidity that caused you to act in such a manner."

"But I should've listened –"

"Stop it, please. What has happened has happened. It is behind us now."

"Shouldn't you be doing paper work?" she asked, placing the photo back on his desk.

Jin followed suit, then drummed his fingers together, "I am more or less intrigued in the nature of your visit."

"I just… came to see what you were doing."

"What do you think I would be doing at work? Creating pornographic videos with my secretary?"

"That sounds like something Hwoarang would say…"

He smirked a little, "But seriously, why are you here? What do you need to talk about?"

She rubbed her wrist and looked down, speaking to him in the privacy of her mind.

* * *

"**But why do we have to get the internet?**" Baek inquired with a frustrated growl, looking at his two students, "**I don't need it for my business, the computer itself is enough. I don't want to waste the money that Jin has given us on things we don't need, and this 'internet' is definitely one of them.**"

"**Well, we'll need it to check out jobs and stuff!**" Seong-Hada chimed, sipping on his coffee.

"**Learn to use the newspaper. Next.**"

"**Advertising?**" he suggested again, this time in unison with his former gang leader.

The 48-year-old rolled his eyes, refocusing on the magazine crossword puzzle before him, "**Flyers.**"

"**Porn!?**" Hwoarang growled, narrowing his eyes, looking for any excuse under the sun. Why was he arguing about the internet?

"**Get laid.**"

"**Fuckin'…**" He helplessly sighed, throwing his hands up in the air, defeated. Despite that, he was smirking a little, glad to have his Father figure back in his life. He was the same as he had always been, cracking the same jokes, pulling the redhead up where necessary, and so on. It was nice to be reconnected once again with the life he had lost.

"**Besides, the connection here is bad, apparently. I **_**have **_**looked around, you know,**" Doo San remarked.

The Blood Talon jumped when his phone vibrated against his thigh. Pulling out his phone hastily, he observed a text message from the girl missing in this scene:

'_meet me the ice cream store, 30 min.'_

A tad confused, he bit his lip and stood, slipping his phone back in his pocket, "**I'm going out for a while.**"

* * *

'_i'm here, can't c u. Sittin outside w/ ice cream.'_

Hwoarang idly licked his ice cream and pulled his black jumper closer around his body. It was cold outside, and despite this knowledge, he was quite happy eating a cold snack. His sienna eyes scanned through the crowd outside, searching for the woman who had summoned him to this place. So far, he hadn't located her.

He wondered what Razer wanted to say to him in privacy. The thoughts were endless, and he couldn't help but feel a little worried because of them. Bouncing his leg continuously, he curled the end of his long, crimson scarf around his fingers, if only to ease the apprehension slightly. Perhaps he should've gotten a seat inside like everyone else. The tables out here were practically empty, sparing a mother, her two children, and himself.

His phone buzzed again:

'_just got 2 the plaza, sorry. Bus decided 2 b late. c u in a bit.'_

Damn buses…

At least five minutes later, the girl came in sight, nervously waving at him. Despite being perplexed at her nervousness, he waved her over, smiling as she approached. With his free arm, he lightly wrapped it around her form in a greeting hug, which was returned, and kissed her cheek, "Hello."

"Hey. Sorry I am late."

"Relax," he said, watching her sit down next to him, "What's up?"

"O-oh, nothing really. I just wanted to hang out with you."

He blinked, more perplexed than before. He was about to take another lick of the snack in his hands, but opted against it. He decided to offer it to her first, in case she was too lazy or tired to go inside and buy one for herself, "Want it?"

She shook her head.

_She never declines ice cream…_

"What's wrong? Seriously."

Storm Wind swallowed, rubbing her hands together from the cold, "Nothing's 'wrong', so to say."

Oh, so something _was _bugging her. Without looking, he tossed the last of his food into the bin on his right. He folded his arms, resting them on the table, and stared at her intently, waiting for her to gather up the courage to speak her mind. Considering the amount of time that was taking, he had a fair idea of what it was about.

"…I can't say it…"

The 21-year-old offered her a small, sympathetic smile, "Take your time."

"But you might hate me for it."

"I could never hate you."

"But –"

"Just say it."

He was suddenly reminded of a night in the 3rd Tournament, the one where he tried to tell her how he felt. But like her at the moment, he couldn't say anything. It just refused to dribble out of his mouth in English, however quiet or loud. She had been frustrated and said the exact same thing that he had remarked – 'just say it'. And regardless, he still couldn't do it.

She did try, several times, even looking up at him and staring at him directly in the eyes, but all that would come out was 'I'. No amount of clearing her throat let any other words leave. Judging by the sadness in her own orbs, even as her gaze dropped to uninterestingly look at her dark blue jeans… Hwoarang now _knew _what she came here to do.

He couldn't pretend that he wasn't hurt, as he too looked away, "…I see."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's my fault anyway. Should've told you how I felt _years _ago."

"Stop harvesting the blame all to yourself," Razer growled, covering his semi-clenched hand with her own, "If _either _of us had spoken, however many years ago, then we wouldn't be like this. We're not 'just' best friends, or metaphorical siblings, and we fall short of being together. You said this yourself last month, remember?"

He bit his lip and leant back in his seat, covering her pinkie with his own, "I remember."

Silence.

"Still, I think this is best."

Confused, the Greek looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

"Gives both of us a chance to explore, you know? We're not running around in circles around each other, and we can always get together later, if Jin doesn't work or whoever I end up finding doesn't work. I mean like… My feelings _won't_ change. I'll always be this stupid idiot standing on the sidelines, wishing he could be yours. And I doubt that your feelings for me will change either. I'm too important to you, and you're too important to me."

She smiled whole-heartedly, though still felt the unhappiness inside, "I love you."

"Love you too, Raze. But just remember, if he even contemplates hurting you, my boot is going very far up his butt."

There was no tears, no fears and no overwhelming despair as they hugged one another tightly. Both sides expected greater pain, but were surprised to find that this time, it wasn't choking their system. It was there, but it was proving easy to ignore. Because, the Blood Talon was right. This wasn't like a loss. This was just… prolonging their time, giving other people a chance to capture their hearts and measure up against the best friend.

Hell, they _had _their time – or at least, a preview of it. Through the eight years of knowing one another, their 'time' lasted for six. It wasn't 'official', but it was still _real. _The 'official' part could wait a little while longer. After all, those who truly care are never gone. They're always there.

* * *

Thick fog blanketed the area, enshrouding it in a mystical appearance that could only be matched by the dead of night. Snow had fallen earlier, covering the dark green grass wholly. Only a few stray blades dared to defy the white, sprouting through, breaking up the colour. Though to someone like Jin, that little detail was completely unnoticed.

He was sitting by the beach, in the same chair that was still here after all these years, just staring out peacefully. He had noticed that since the destruction of Jinpachi Mishima, the devil within had quietened down. He had not been completely eliminated, but a fierce blow had been delivered, temporarily silencing him.

There were still times where he piped up and spoke, such as now, What are you thinking about, mortal?

He didn't answer. He was thinking about his life, and how far he had come from the little naïve boy he once was. His Mother shaped his morals and his ideals, concreting them so that even after she had died, they still stood strong inside of him, like stone pillars. Everyday, Devil challenged them, holding the polar opposite in his hands, trying to lure him into the dark side, where chaos and carnage reigned supreme.

And as the beast constantly disputed them, there were new people, both of his age, or of his blood, or of his profession; gave him new ideas to contemplate. He added his own changes due to what he perceived, though they did not stray far from their origins. The places around him changed, and he was thrown into a new environment, though it was proved that he had learnt to adapt and interact quite quickly.

As much as he missed his old life, from before the unfortunate events of the Third Tournament, he had to admit that his new life from the end of the Fifth Tournament was nice. He didn't have to hide anymore, he didn't have to avoid anyone, he had his friends behind him… Though it wasn't important, he also had money, and he was also setting the Mishima Zaibatsu straight. No more secrets and lies from the corporation that mastered the world in the shadows.

Sure, Heihachi and Kazuya were still around, but neither had the power to do anything against him yet. Heihachi may as well be homeless, and as for Kazuya, well… he had practically vanished. It was almost as though he had no business here anymore. With his Grandfather gone, there was no reason to hang around. There was nothing here for him to do, yet. At least, that is what the Kazama youth thought. He didn't actually _know. _

But still… He could, to an extent, relax.

It had felt like an eternity since he could do that.

On his way here, he had been greeted by a few tournament fans. Instead of the normal, friendly greeting he was used to, like back in Brisbane, there were stiff bows and plastered smiles. It was almost as though they feared him for what he had become – a powerful, powerful man with the world dangling innocently from his fingertips. He had gone from having nothing to _everything; _a success story that was drawled about in every magazine on every continent. The same question yet to be answered, the same hope yet to shine.

'He flew to the highest peaks after drowning in the pits of hell', one had said. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

Another queried, 'Can this man change our future?'

He already had without them knowing, _twice_, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was anything more he could do for the world that had turned its back on him. Only now did people look, only now was he acknowledged. But this was never about receiving, it was always about giving. There was no greed in his own soul – Devil's definitely, but not his – only the want to help and protect.

_I have a conclusion to my tale, _Jin finally stated distantly to the devil within.

And what might this hypothesis be?

He smiled simply, eyes disconnecting from the still water. He looked down to his hands, which were folded in his lap. For so long, he had fought himself, the enemy inside of him. He used to say to himself when he was younger 'if a demon lives within me, then I shall try and do nothing but good'. It surprised him that he could remember the proclamation. Studying the cuff of his shirt, he spoke from the deepest depths of his heart, _For the rest of my days, for as long as the Zaibatsu remains in my hands, I will shape it as my vessel to better and protect the people on this planet. One man can change the world. _

One man can also destroy the world.

The 21-year-old rubbed his eyes, a tad tired, _One good turn deserves another. _

A eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

_Then if you wish to use that theory… You took away my freedom. You bent me to your will, moulding me into your slave. I have broken free of your poisonous shackles, and I walk, liberated. Now it is my turn. You are the one who is caged. I have bent you to my will, moulding you into what I have always wanted you to be – dormant. _

_You had your chance to use others to your advantage, be it my Father or me, or someone else in this vast world. You had your vessels, both Ogre and Jinpachi, and you failed to utilise them. A truly harmful being uses his craft wisely, and succeeds at what he does, be they manipulation or murder. I fail to see a dead man on your account for world domination._

Devil seethed.

_You are not the man who will destroy the world._

And until the world has been altered, mortal, you are not the man who will change it.

Jin simply smiled, _We will see._

He retreated, silencing himself for the remainder of the night.

Satisfied with his conclusion, and deciding to return home to the Mishima Mansion for late dinner and more relaxation, the Japanese man stood and stretched his back and his arms. Inhaling the ocean air one last time, he turned away from the scene, straightening his posture, hands dangling by his sides idly. He was exhausted.

It was when he actually _looked _in front of him did he realise that someone had been standing there, waiting for him. He blinked multiple times, his chocolate brown eyes still trying to make sure that she was actually standing there, or if this was just a dream and he was back in the dumps at some point in the past few hellish months.

"Did I scare you?" Razer asked, echoing his words from earlier.

"You surprised me," he responded, repeating her phrase from before.

She smiled, rocking back and forth on her heels, hands behind her back, "I see."

"How are you?" he asked, joining her by her side, his heavy feet treading through the snow.

"I'm good. How're you?"

He hesitated for a moment, "I am so, so tired."

"Then don't stay up doing all this ridiculous paper work."

"No no, it's not just that, it is everything. Now that everything has been lifted from my shoulders… Jinpachi, Heihachi, and so on… I just feel so weak. I had to keep going back then, I had to keep pushing on. It was like an eternal struggle, just to pull myself through those times for everyone I cared about. And now… I need to relax, but I am the CEO of the Zaibatsu."

"Maybe you can give yourself a vacation. I mean, you're your own boss."

Jin grinned at her, "True. I suppose at the end of the month I shall organise such a thing…" He turned his head wholly to the right, where she was walking. He noticed her hands were in her pockets now, shivering due to the cold, "So, why did you decide to visit me today? I mean, right here and now, not the office visit before."

"Just wanted to hang out."

He raised an eyebrow and returned his gaze to the coming pathway before him, "I see. Did you resolve what was bothering you?"

"Yeah."

A slight nod, "I assume you are with him now?"

"No."

The Japanese man couldn't help but freeze in place, eyes slightly wide, heart in his mouth, "I would've thought…?"

"He and I have had our time, Jin," she explained softly, also stopping. She looked to her boots, "Six years worth, practically. I only had two with you. Don't you think that scale needs to be balanced out? Because I sure think so, if you're willing."

Speechlessness took hold of him by the throat. It was tight, gripping him so that all words that wanted to come out were clogged up, unable to escape into the open. He tried many times to force whatever he needed to say out, but the questions he wanted to ask and the words he wanted to say were lodged in there tightly.

The only things breaking up the silence of the atmosphere was their breathing and the gentle whispers of the waters behind them. Through all the problems that they had within themselves, with each other, with the situations around them, and so on and so forth, she was still offering him her heart to have. And he couldn't say no.

It didn't stop him from thinking up possible situations, "What about Angel?"

"What about Devil?" Razer countered, "He'd stir up the trouble, not Angel. You know that."

He smiled and nodded slightly, "True, I suppose. But… are you sure about this? I mean –"

"I'm sure."

The smile expanded as he took her hand in his, "One step at time?"

"One step at a time," she confirmed, pulling him onto the pathway before them, both in the physical and metaphorical sense.


	43. Epilogue Two, Hwoarang: Horizon

_If it is in _normal style, _then it is speech._

_If it is in italics, then it is thought._

_If it is in __**bold**__, then it is the individual's natural tongue._

_If it is __underlined,__ then it is Devil and Angel._

_Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech._

_Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang)._

_All other characters belong to Namco._

**Author's Note:** If you had to take a break reading Chapter 39 and its ten thousand words, you will probably need to take a break with this one too, as it is _over _eleven thousand words (yup. Another OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAND chapters XD). I much rather this one. It just ties the _whole _story together so much better, etc. Even elements in Take Me Back are mentioned, yet until you read it, some won't exactly make sense.

This is the true ending to _With Me, _I suppose. It's been with me since the start, and you have _no idea _how good it felt to get it out. But regardless, please enjoy the very last post of _With Me. _If it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't be writing as well as I do now, nor be as 'well known' for my skills in this section. Thank you. Honestly.

* * *

**NOTE:** _This is __**Hwoarang's Epilogue.**__ To see __Jin Kazama's, __go to the previous chapter._

* * *

_**Epilogue Two: Horizon**_

Voices echoed in his head.

"_**Make sure you get a place with lots of space,**__" he said with a bright smile, "__**If there's going to be four of us living here, and then people coming to train in the dojang, then it's seriously gotta be spacious. I don't wanna sleep in a pantry or a bathtub or something dumb like that.**__"_

_Seong-Hada grinned at his former gang leader, "__**Just share with Razer like you did on the streets. When it got to six of us you pretty much dragged her from her room and into yours, and you let me and Nas-San take hers. I'm pretty sure she'd be fine with it. I mean, Han-Geong actually thought that you two were so comfortable around each other that you wouldn't bother turning away to change underwear and stuff.**__"_

_Hwoarang looked at him dumbly and spoke sarcastically, "_**Why **_**didn't that **_**ever **_**occur to me?**_"

"_**What didn't? Not bothering to turn away when –**__"_

"_**No, it explains why he used to give me funny looks every morning.**__"_

"_**Yeah, I remember them. I think you hit him in the balls once because of that…**__"_

The nostalgia of his old, dead gang mates had the smile on the Blood Talon's face fall off suddenly. He continued staring at the wooden ground of his room. He missed them all terribly, sparing the two sadistic bastards who had slaughtered most of them, and their strange little activities and behaviour. He'd never forget the amount of times that little Roh-Hwang walked into walls.

A shame that he had been shot dead in cold blood by the police.

How fortunate that he had been saved from the torture of his so called 'friends'.

"_**Look,**__" Baek cut in through the cold silence, "__**I'm going to buy what I can afford, simple as that. So stop bickering.**__"_

"_**We're not bickering!**__" Seong-Hada remarked, "__**If you wanna see bickering, all you have to do is ask!**__"_

"_**No bickering!**__"_

_Before the day could be waste any further, Hwoarang grinned, "__**Get out of here, both of you. I'm tired.**__"_

"_**You're such a whiner,**__" the 19-year-old growled teasingly at his fellow youth, following his Master out of the room. The eldest of them all closed the door gently behind him, giving a small smile to his oldest student. He had been awfully tired lately, and he easily pinned it down to the wound inflicted on him by Jinpachi._

He hadn't heard from Razer's Mother since the fight, and assumed that she didn't need to contact him anymore. There was no reason for her to hang around because there was no supernatural threat. She didn't need to warn everyone of something, and there was nothing wrong with her daughter anymore either.

The wound was healing up slowly everyday. His back was gradually becoming more and more mobile, and the pain was becoming duller and duller. If he twisted his back at an odd angle though, he'd definitely pay for it, and the pain wouldn't settle for at least an hour. This knew that this would keep him out of training for a fair while.

_Within a few moments after they had left, he moved to lie down, however there was a knock at the door. With an agitated and sleepy sigh, Hwoarang stood and went to open it. The wood swiftly swung back on its hinges, as guided by his hand. On the other side stood his best friend, "Hey, you."_

"_Hey. Did you need help hobbling to the airport? The others are leaving soon," Razer smiled._

_He grinned briefly, stepping out, closing the door behind him, "I don't 'hobble' anywhere."_

"_You what, 'limp' then?"_

"_Shut it."_

Although he didn't interact with them as much as the others, it was sad to see Steve, Christie and Eddy leave (though Lei's exit was somewhat amusing. He had been dragging Feng Wei onto the plane, and had shoved some guy named Johno aside with Detective Burton). There were some laughs and some tears, but they all knew that they would meet again in the Sixth Tournament, whenever it was held. Photographs and phone numbers were exchanged, as were kind words and compliments.

_Steve was unable to control his smile when he came to the first person he met at the Fourth Tournament, "I'm so proud of you."_

_The woman in question was clearly perplexed, and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Why?"_

_Beside her, Hwoarang listened, though pretended to be completely oblivious. To add to his acting, he focused his gaze on Marduk, someone he was not fond of, interacting friendlily with King as they boarded their plane to wherever. He was intrigued by this, because for all he knew, they were in different countries._

"_Well… you've changed a considerable amount. At the start of the 4__th__ Tournament, when I met you, you were so anti-social, so quiet, so… far away, and just… lost. You were so lost, love. I could've waved a thousands pieces of your favourite food in front of your face, or the most attractive man in the world, or your worst enemy, or an alien, or I could've threatened to bowl you over with a stone boulder… you just would not budge. Despite your progress, you reverted back to that same girl because of the… unpleasantness… near the end of the tournament._

"_And now? Look at you. You're not as cold, you're not far away or lost. You're smiling. You're happy. If I dangled a thousand pieces of chocolate before you, you'd snatch it up, for sure; and I had somehow gathered enough strength to lift Marduk and hold him up in front of you, I'm sure you'd beat him to bloody pulp. You're living. And it's just wonderful to see. For that I'm proud of you, because you're not letting anything hold you back from what you deserve."_

The Blood Talon undoubtedly agreed. For the first time in a long time, she was living, _properly_. He was glad that he was not the only one who thought such a thing. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. There were no threats, be they of supernatural origin, of family or of internal struggles. They weren't starving, they weren't homeless and holding onto each other for warmth.

He looked up from the ground, still hunched over, though now staring now into a mirror on the wall opposite him. He was in his room in the new dojang, which he and the others had inhabited for about a month or so now. He stared at himself for a few moments, before a small smile cracked through, like the smallest rays of sunlight.

"It's over."

The fight to survive.

The long road, the truest struggle.

The hardest test that he had ever endured.

He nodded firmly, his smile a little wider, "It's over."

* * *

Are you sure you want to do this? Angel inquired cautiously, Are you sure of your decision?

_I have never been so sure in my life, Angel, _Razer replied, waiting for the secretary to be done on the phone with the person she had come to see. As she waited, she drummed her fingers across her arm, trying to keep her collected thoughts together, _It is going to be hard, sure… Emotionally, financially, and so on… But I want to do this. _

You have only been in Japan for a month. Are you sure that you want to just get up and…?

_I know your intentions are good, but nothing you will say will change my mind. I have done so much thinking for the past month, and my mind is made up, right down to the smallest detail. _

She projected a graceful smile, I know everything will be okay for everyone. Just take each day as it comes.

"Yeah, just head in, he said its fine," the secretary stated blandly, returning to her work. Her fingers zoomed across the keyboard at a million miles an hour, filling out various forms on the computer. Athane wondered how the person could type so fast. She was a slow typer herself.

She entered the large office room, her green eyes landing on Jin Kazama, who was hunched over on his desk. She noticed a disgruntled face on his visage, and laughed to herself as he crumbled up the piece of paper in his hand and tossed it in the bin beside him. It seemed that he didn't notice her approach him.

'_Were you hoping to scare me?'_

The 20-year-old grinned and replied in turn, _'I was hoping to surprise you. What are you doing?'_

'_Giving out money to other companies,' _the new CEO stated, tearing out a cheque, placing it on top of a pile. He looked up to her and tilted his head slightly, smiling, _'And what are _you _doing? Should you not be looking after Hwoarang at Baek's dojang? I know he has not completely recovered yet, though he acts as though he has.'_

'_Baek'll put him into line if he decides to be an idiot,' _she turned away and spotted a nearby chair. She moved to sit, swivelling it so it was facing towards her close friend, and tapped her fingers on the arm rests, '_It has been just over a month since the incident, though. He's healing up quite well. The scab is almost gone.'_

Jin nodded and returned to his work, '_That is good.'_

'_Yeah.'_

After various periods of bone-chilling silence, memories (such as birthdays), some general teasing and apologies, she was given a calm stare and a warm smile. She slowly placed the photograph she had picked up back onto his desk and spoke, trying to cut up this period of silence, "Shouldn't you be doing paper work?"

Jin followed suit, then drummed his fingers together, "I am more or less intrigued in the nature of your visit."

"I just… came to see what you were doing."

"What do you think I would be doing at work? Creating pornographic videos with my secretary?"

"That sounds like something Hwoarang would say…"

He smirked a little, "But seriously, why are you here? What do you need to talk about?"

She rubbed her wrist and looked down, _'Do you remember when I called you up a few days ago and told you about my… 'problem'?_

'_Yes.'_

'_I've reached a decision about it.'_

Yet another uncomfortable silence. She nervously looked up at him as he spoke verbally, "And this decision is…?"

"I think we should just stay friends."

He nodded, smiling, looking back to the papers in front of him, "A wise decision indeed, my friend. With my new position as the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, I do not think I will have time for a relationship for a while. Besides, I need to get used to this before I can leap into anything else that is new. I am glad that this weight is off your shoulders, and I truly thank you for the brief time we did have together."

"And I thank you too, Jin. But I haven't finished what I was going to say, either."

"Forgive my interruption," the Japanese man rested his elbows on the table and pressed both hands against one another. He turned his head to the left and looked at her, still smiling, "Please, continue with your information."

"I've decided that I'm moving."

This caught him by surprise. He raised both of his eyebrows, chocolate brown eyes widening a little bit, "You are leaving Tokyo?"

"I'm leaving Japan."

Pause.

"You are returning to South Korea with Hwoarang, Seong-Hada and Mr Doo San?"

"No."

Truly confused, he leant back in his chair, looked back to the papers and scratched his neck, trying to make sense of the situation. She's leaving Japan, but she is not returning to her old neighbourhood with the three Koreans. Or, she's returning to Korea alone. But that doesn't make sense, she can't speak the language and would be as good as a limbless fighter.

It took him a good, solid minute to figure out what she was saying. The 21-year-old looked back up and at his ex-girlfriend once more, the situation finally sorted out in his head. His smile was wide, and that in itself settled her nerves, "If you ever need anything… money, a car, or a friend… please call me or email me, and I will have what you desire sent out to you. Best of luck to you."

Razer scratched the back of her head and nodded firmly, "Thank you. For everything."

Jin smiled and turned wholly in his chair to embrace one of his closest friends.

* * *

A sweet 'ding-dong' reverberated through the area.

"**We have a vistorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!**" Seong-Hada yelled, stampeding to the front door. His bare feet thudded over the wood, the sound eventually coming to a sudden stop. He turned the doorknob, throwing the wood wide open, and inwardly squealed with glee when he saw the person on the other side, "Xiao!"

"Hey!" she remarked, throwing her arms around her friend lightly, "Long time no see!"

"Yeah, it's only been, oh… a month. Four weeks. Thirty days. You need to visit more!"

She nodded, letting go of the 19-year-old. Stepping inside, she took her white runners off, leaving them beside the three other pairs of shoes, and ran her fingers through one of her pigtails, looking around the area, "Wow, you guys have set this up really nicely. It looks all warm and cosy. It really feels like a home."

"Yeah I know. Thank Baek for the 'shiny' interior layouts," he grinned with a light wink, taking her petite hand. Pulling her along gently, he led her away from the front door, "Come on, let me show you around the place!"

Like a good tour guide, he showed her around their new home, pointing out various bits and pieces, telling her a couple of stories here and there about this lounge and that table. She simply smiled and nodded, pitching in a laugh every so often. The Chinese girl was truly happy for the three youths, for after so long, they had a proper home and a great man watching over them all.

When they came to the back yard, they noticed Hwoarang playing soccer by himself. Seong-Hada was perplexed at this, for he had never known that his close friend played the sport. He opened the door and called out, "Hwoarang, what's this? You never told me you played soccer!"

"Junior championships," he chuckled, kneeing the ball up to his chest, "Four years in a row. I quit when I was eleven."

"I see," he remarked, smiling, "Just make sure you don't tire yourself out, or put your back in a… corproising…? Position."

"'Corproising', SH, isn't a word. It's 'compromising'."

"**Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut upppp!**" he huffed, pointing a finger at him. He couldn't hide the slight smile in his frustrated voice,"**If it wasn't for Razer, I wouldn't have bothered with this stupid language in the first place! You should've taught her Korean, dammit! Korean is **_**not **_**difficult; **_**English **_**is!**"

"**She knows some words and phrases.**"

"**Like **_**what? **_**'Hi', 'thank you', 'I love you', 'do you speak English'? Anything else?**"

"**Oh, that's not all. She knows 'fuck', 'I know', 'chicken', 'you and I', 'please sing a song', 'how much is this', 'where is this place', what time is it', 'bitch'…**" he trailed off for a moment, smirking, and observed his younger friend from the corner of his eyes,"**'Chop sticks'. 'Spoon'.**"

He froze into place and blinked rapidly. Seong-Hada's suspicions told him that he was about to lose money, "**She remembered?**"

Hwoarang dropped the ball and strolled over towards the door, giving a small nod and smile to the visitor, before turning back to his former gang mate. He stuck his hand out and leant against the frame, still smirking, "**Cough it up.**"

He fumbled through the pockets of his black tracksuit pants with his free hand, pulling out the total to their bet, grumbling 'dammit' over and over in Korean, shoving it in the 21-year-old's hand. He tugged Ling away, continuing on with his tour, pointing out this and that, "There used to be a piano over here. Why you'd need a piano in a dojang is beyond me, but anyway…"

The Blood Talon smiled to himself and turned away, shoving the money into his pocket. Treading his bare feet over the wood carefully, he walked towards the edge of the veranda, looking around, bored. It wasn't the same as the old dojang, but there were still some striking similarities, such as the large cherry blossom tree in the back corner of the yard. It amused him that people thought that they were _only _indigenous to Japan. That wasn't true, they were native to a majority of Asia.

He didn't know how long he had been staring at the flora blankly, but before he knew it, there was a light touch to his shoulder. He looked over it and smiled, stepping to the side slightly so that the person could stand beside him, "It kinda looks like home, doesn't it? Like, it does, but it doesn't."

Razer nodded, her hands nestled in her pockets, "It amazes me that the tree is of the same type and in the same location."

"Even the fence looks the same."

"Just a different colour, of course."

"Yeah…" he put an arm across his chest temporarily, stretching it, before letting it drop again, turning to look at her.

It was that 'look' again, the one she had been trying to figure out for years.

"So how's Jin?"

Do you want me to tell you?

"He is settling in his new job very well."

"Nice," it only got firmer with his smile.

_Please._

"Yeah. We had a bit of a talk."

"What about?"

"Life, in general… The past, the present, and the future."

"The future?"

"Oh, you know, where we see ourselves soon, who we see ourselves with, and so on."

Hwoarang chuckled to himself and smiled, turning to look at her, "Man, I'm gonna be envious of the guy who gets you."

"I do not see how you can envy yourself."

The Korean did a double take, the smile slowly seeping off his face until there was nothing but a blank stare residing. His counterpart turned her head to the right and looked back, partially amused by his expression, but nonetheless smiling slightly in return. She was clearly trying to read what was going through his mind by the look on his face, or what he may or may not have been planning to do.

His head dropped down, his sienna eyes staring at the floorboards and at their feet. Lost in the wave of happiness, he fell to his knees and firmly wrapped his arms around her waist, cheek pressing against her stomach. Closing he eyes, he took in the moment for all it was worth, committing it to memory, right down to the smallest details. The feel of the wood below his jeans and knees, the warmth of her body, the overwhelming joy, the soft hand patting the top of his head… All of it.

"Neona…" he choked, holding her harder.

"Neona," she replied with a nod, smiling.

'You and I'.

The look in his eyes… that you have not been able to pin a name to yet… It is _protection_.

_Of course, _she murmured to Angel, her smile growing, _I should have known._

They said nothing more for a good ten minutes and merely remained frozen in place.

Soon enough though, the silence was broken by a feminine whisper, "Leave Japan with me."

He looked up at her, curious, "But where will we go?"

"You took me into your home, into your country. Let me take you into mine."

* * *

It seemed like only yesterday that the proposition of moving to Greece with his best frie – _girlfriend, _had been put on the table. It seemed like only yesterday that they had headed back inside and shoved everything they owned into bags, zipping them up hastily, thereafter dumping them on the floor, making flight and travel plans.

It seemed like only yesterday that Hwoarang had told Baek what had happened after six years of silent hope. It seemed like only yesterday that Seong-Hada had blabbed about it to everyone, all the while grinning his God damn head off. Even Steve called when he heard the news. The very first word that dropped out of his mouth was an excruciatingly loud 'about fucking time dammit' that could be heard from all parts of the dojang.

It only felt like a few hours ago that they were at the airport, bidding everyone good bye. A 'damn proud' Baek, squeezing their shoulders. A teary Seong-Hada, squeezing them both in a hug each until they almost suffocated. A sniffling Xiaoyu, demanding that they email her everyday 'or else. I don't know what, but 'or else!''.

A delighted Miharu, wishing them all the luck in the world. A calm Jinrei, telling them to keep their wits about them and to be careful. A smug Asuka, claiming that despite their absence, she would continue to dominate the arcades here. And last but not least, a peaceful Jin, who simply wore a smile and stated that if they needed anything, just contact him. And then they were gone, off on a new adventure. Just the two of them.

Despite what it seemed like or felt like, in reality it had been two months. The snow storms were no longer common. The blinding white began to recede, allowing full life to return back to the land surrounding their new mountain home. The warmth of the summer sunlight was easier to feel now than it had been when they moved in, though it did not warm them as much as the knowledge that after _so damn long, _they were an item.

When they first arrived, Hwoarang noticed the forlorn smile and hints of tears in the woman's eyes. However, before he could sport any act of comfort, she had opened the door immediately and practically ran inside, looking around. He had stumbled in after her quietly, closing the door, and watched as the smile lost the sadness.

"It's the same," she had said, "Everything is the same. The couch is still here, the photographs, the tv is in the same spot…"

They had changed things around a little. For one, the television wasn't practically sitting in the middle of the room. It was now angled in a corner, and the couches had been angled appropriately to suit the situation. They gathered all but a few photos and put them away in Razer's box safely, where the rest of her past memories lay, and so on.

They even had jobs now. She worked at a library part time, which he found amusing, considering how much she read. He taught Tae Kwon Do at a nearby gym five days a week. Per his request, they were all English speaking students only. It made teaching a lot easier. His knowledge of Greek was fairly limited. It was safe to say that he knew as much of that as Razer knew of Korean.

With the money that they were earning, as well as the generous amount that Jin had slipped in Razer's pocket via a cheque (a fact which she found humorous), they were settling in quite well and had a few accessories already. The Blood Talon had bought some equipment for work, and as a combined effort, they had bought a computer. The excuse was that they were 'afraid' of what the 'or else' part of Xiaoyu's threat would be. He even had a motorbike again.

Their best purchase, though, had just slipped her head under the covers of their bed and began to lick the fallen male hand vigorously. The act grudgingly roused the sleeping youth, who raised the attacked hand and looked at it through heavy eyes, noticing slobber all over the back of it. Disgruntled and still in a sleepy daze, he wiped it on the duvet before peeking over the side, seeing their puppy attempt to jump up on the bed.

_You're not allowed up here… _he inwardly groaned, rolling over, feeling the covers, his boxers and the rocket pendant twist due to his actions. Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, he silently observed the sleeping woman next to him, and only now realised that the sudden source of his numb right arm was because Razer was using his bicep as a makeshift pillow.

As much as he wanted to just lie here, Hwoarang had to get up. He had to let the dog out and feed it, and he had to feed himself too. His stomach was clearly protesting against the lack of contents. After briefly ruffling his girlfriend's hair, he slowly sat up and slipped his arm out from underneath her frame, relishing the freedom once the task had been accomplished. Soon enough, the blood would circulate back to the arm.

He swung his legs off the bed, carefully making sure not to tread on the happy animal that was now licking at his toes. For a few moments, he reached forward and scratched the husky pup behind its ears in silent greeting. The 21-year-old had always been terrible with names, so he had let Razer pick the name for the creature, though she was only slightly better at that task than he was.

"Hey, Snowy."

He didn't know why she decided upon that name, probably because it snowed here and in Korea. That or it was starting to snow at the cathedral during that massive battle between the genes. Or the fact that huskies were made for snowy conditions. Little did he know that the underlying reason was deeper. Snow covered all, leaving everything a bright white in its wake. White is the symbol of purity and hope.

Of rebirth.

A new life, a new entity… It was only fitting.

It seemed that the Korean had entered into a robotic state. His brief pondering had led him downstairs and to the back door already, which he had just opened. Snowy bolted outside to do her business, and in the mean time, one of her masters quickly grabbed a can of dog food, opened it, dumped the smelly contents into her dark green bowl and disposed of the plastic garbage.

It was when he walked into the cupboard did he decide that it was time for coffee.

The dog eventually lumbered back inside and located its food, thereafter beginning its consumption. By that time, the Blood Talon already had the coffee in his hands, and was sitting on the computer, booting it up to check for emails from the others, or to see if anyone was online to chat with. And as always, it was taking its time logging in.

The moment he had successfully signed in, he spotted no emails. However, a chat box came up.

_Hambagah says: omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg hiiii!_

He smiled and replied.

_Idiot says: Seong-Hada, hey!__  
Hambagah says: WAZZAAAAAAAAP? :D__  
Idiot says: Not much, just woke up -.- You?__  
Hambagah says: nm, just chattin' lulz__  
Idiot says: lol__  
Hambagah says: So what's been happening lately?__  
Hambagah says: Don't you have a job you should be at atm?__  
Hambagah says: lololololololol__  
Idiot says: Nothing really, and it's fucking 9am on a Saturday, so no__  
Hambagah says: awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.  
Hambagah says: hey hey hey  
__Hambagah says: ummmm…__  
Idiot says: ?  
__Hambagah says: I don't remember, lol  
__Idiot says: -.-  
Hambagah says: oh oh oh ohohohohohohoh I remember now!_

_Hambagah has invited you to watch his/her webcam._

Oh great, so he wanted to show him something. Soon enough, he clicked accept, and his friend was on the screen in his pyjamas, waving about what appeared to be an orange belt. His face was full of pride and content. Soon enough, he put it down and began to type again.

_Hambagah says: I got my orange belt! Baek says I'm going great :D__  
Idiot says: Sweet, nice job!  
__Hambagah says: ty, ty  
Idiot says: lol_

_Hambagah has requested to watch your webcam._

_Idiot says: Dude, no, I'm a sleepy wreck__  
Hambagah says: Yeah that's something I've seen before  
Hambagah says: Come onnnn, click accept__  
Hambagah says: If you know what's good for you, you will :D  
Idiot says: Fuckin'…_

_You have accepted the invitation._

Hwoarang quickly ran his fingers through his hair, lazily fixing it up, and rubbed his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee. He monitored Seong-Hada's expression, which went from patiently waiting to hyperactive happiness, and couldn't help but grin himself.

_Hambagah says: It's so good to see you! :)__  
Hambagah says: Wait  
Hambagah says: Dude__  
Hambagah says: Put a shirt on  
Hambagah says: Srsly__  
Idiot says: XDDDDDDDDDD  
Hambagah says: xD__  
Hambagah says: Hold on, lemme get Baek  
Hambagah says: He wanted to talk with you__  
Hambagah says: brb  
Idiot says: k_

As the figure of his friend left the confinements of the camera, he watched an email alert arrive at the bottom right hand of the screen. Noticing it was from Miharu, he clicked it immediately, putting the coffee down, and watched as the email opened itself.

All he had to do was read the first line and roll his eyes.

'_Hey Hwo. I got sent this 'email'. I thought you might find it useful, heheheheh.'_

Deleting the penis enlargement spam, he heard a voice from behind him, "I love her sense of humour."

"Good morning to you too," Hwoarang remarked with a lazy smile, looking up and back at the woman.

Razer sleepily rubbed her eyes and patted his head, "Who are you talking to?"

In that instant, Seong-Hada came back into view with Baek in tow.

_Hambagah says: back  
__Hambagah says: OMG RAZER  
__Hambagah says: OMG HI__  
Hambagah says: OMG SUP  
Hambagah says: :D :D :D_

She leant over Hwoarang and typed a response.

_Idiot says: Hi, I just got up and I am very tired. How are you?  
Hambagah says: I r t3h great :D__  
Idiot says: …t3h?  
Hambagah says: nvm (never mind)_

She shrugged and stood up straight again, waving at her two friends briefly. They waved back.

_Hambagah says: Anyway I'm gonna hand this keyboard over to Baek nowww.  
Hambagah says: ttyl in… 5 min or somethin'_

They watched as the 19-year-old stood from his seat, and as their Master lowered himself onto the chair.

_Hambagah says: Hello, you two.  
Hambagah says: I trust that you are both doing well over there?_

Hwoarang replied.

_Idiot says: Yeah, we're doing great.__  
Idiot says: We even have a dog now :D  
Hambagah says: I see.  
__Hambagah says: Just remember to look after each other.__  
Hambagah says: If you ever come back to Japan, please visit us.  
Idiot says: Will do, appa._

In response to being called 'Dad', Baek paused for a moment and smiled, even looking for an emoticon to show it.

_Hambagah says: :)__  
Hambagah says: It feels so strange not having you two around anymore.__  
Hambagah says: Inside these walls, it is so quiet.__  
Hambagah says: I listen out, expecting to hear a pained yell or many snappy insults at one another.__  
Hambagah says: I am met with nothing but a television and breathing.__  
Hambagah says: Not even the seldom hyperactive phases that Seong-Hada goes through succeed.  
__Idiot says: We've grown up, Baek.__  
Idiot says: The people you remembered us as are gone.__  
Idiot says: We left 'em behind, long ago.__  
Hambagah says: I know.__  
Hambagah says: And in their places are two wonderful young adults.  
__Hambagah says: I may not be either of your fathers, but…  
Hambagah says: I'm sure both of them would be proud of you, just as I am._

While the compliment pleased Hwoarang, it unsettled Razer slightly. _Would_ he be proud of who she was? Would he be proud of how she had shaped herself? Of how she lived? Of who she was with? Of her friends? Anything? More importantly, why was she curious about this? She already knew the answer. If he were alive, he wouldn't care, though deep down, she wished he did.

It was at the end of her silent thinking did she realise that there was no pain in thinking of him and the events back home. She could walk amongst the memories freely and know that they were only memories, and nothing more. She could dream and know that they were only dreams, and that the events didn't happen anymore.

That she was safe and protected. That she was free.

You've let it go.

_I didn't even realise I did._

Some things work in mysterious ways, Razer. But well done regardless.

_Maybe I can…_

Maybe you can what?

_You know… _That.

Oh… Well, maybe you can.

"Hey…"

The Greek blinked for a moment and looked down at the Blood Talon, "Mm?"

"You alright?" he queried, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, I am fine. I'm just going to make some breakfast. Did you want anything?"

He shook his head and pointed to the coffee, "I'm good."

Nodding briefly, she turned away, folding her arms across her chest, _Do you think I should?_

It is your decision to make, not mine.

Angel left her alone to think in silence for a good fifteen minutes. In that time, they had eaten breakfast (she had made him some toast. Coffee simply wouldn't be enough), and both had gotten changed into their day clothes. In addition, Seong-Hada had returned to the computer and was speaking with Hwoarang again.

_Hambagah says: And that's when I said to the guy 'go and ask someone who actually speaks Japanese.'__  
Idiot says: lol XD Niiiice.__  
Hambagah says: Anyway, I'm gonna go nowwww.__  
Idiot says: Sure.__  
Idiot says: Stay safe, man.__  
Hambagah says: You too :)__  
Hambagah says: Later :P  
Idiot says: Baiii!_

_Hambagah has logged off._

"Raze? Did you wanna check your mail?" Hwoarang asked, standing up and leaving the computer, "If so, then the comp's all yours."

He looked around, trying to spot her, eventually finding her in the kitchen, looking out the window. He stayed silent and motionless, observing her too. It was as though she was staring out into the horizon, thinking again. One hand was around a glass of water, and the other was idly resting on the bench. She didn't even seem to notice that Snowy tugging at the bottom of her dress, trying to get her attention.

The 21-year-old walked in and took the dog away from her dress. Picking the animal up and off the floor in one arm, he tapped his girlfriend on the shoulder, watching as she came back to reality and turned to look at him, a simple 'hm' slipping from her mouth. He spoke, "Are you sure you're okay?" A nod. Shrugging, he turned away, taking the dog with him, "The computer's yours if you wanna check your mail."

They both entered the living room again, the eldest sitting on the floor and playing with their pet, the youngest sitting at the computer, signing into her email account. She expected no emails, for most were sent to Hwoarang's address (seeing as he used it more), but she was surprised to see one sitting there. She smiled and opened it.

_To: Razer Athane__  
From: Jin Kazama  
Subject: Check Up Time_

_It is currently… some ungodly hour of the night here in Japan. The flickering screen of my laptop hurts my eyes, as though they're burning. I can hear you saying 'stop looking at the screen and go to bed then, idiot' in my head, but… you know what? I'm determined to write out this email to you because I have not spoken with you since the day you left this country and returned to your homeland._

_I apologise, firstly, that it took so long to contact you. This is my 'check up' email so to say. The first of many. I am sure you are wondering how I have found time to do this? Well, I am my own boss, am I not? I set up my own break time, for three weeks. Today is the first day I have had off since becoming the CEO of the Zaibatsu, so I used it to train again. I think I am starting to become fat…_

_For the rest of these three weeks, I am going to do some changes around the Mishima Mansion (with help from my maids of course, and I have already banished that useless Kuma to the Hokkaido forests. Honestly, why did my Grandfather keep him around?), train, hang out, and just relax in general. The school holidays are coming up soon for Xiaoyu and Miharu, so I assume that they will be coming to visit often, and maybe even stay over for a few nights. It will be good to see them again, I haven't seen them and interacted with them such large scales for a long while._

_Xiaoyu is doing splendidly – she has passed all of her final exams, even __Maths__! Can you believe it? I can, Miharu can, Seong-Hada can, even Asuka and Mr Doo San… but she, herself, can't believe it. The silly thing needs to stop doubting herself. She is currently looking around for an art college. Did she ever tell you that she loves to paint? Well, she does, and she thinks it would be a good place to start. Little Ling even has a job now (no not with me and the Zaibatsu, that would be a scary thought, lol. And yes. I used __**lol**__. You're not imagining things, Raze) – she is working at a music store that is closer to her home. Ironically, it is in that same chain of stores that I found your shirt, three years ago :P (more shocking news – I used an __**emoticon**__! Are you surprised?)._

_Miharu is doing very well also. She too passed her exams, though her marks were not as good as Xiaoyu's. But she doesn't care, she just wants to get a job right now and become, and I quote, "rich, rich rich! Maybe I can make my own company. 'Hirano Industries', rival company of the Mishima Zaibatsu! Shoes against robots!". She has not found anything yet, though she is badgering Ling for a job at the same store. So far, her attempts have been unsuccessful, but she keeps trying. Her fighting technique is getting better too – Xiaoyu's Grandfather has taken her on as his student._

_Asuka… on a personal level, I do not know how she is doing as much as these two, but she is moving in with me at the start of the coming year. Her Father and I have met a few times (though on business terms – he required financial assistance to rebuild his dojo), and he deems me worthy enough to house my cousin. It is wonderful feeling to be trusted, after not trusting myself for so long. I do not know, maybe I am even beginning to trust myself again. Little steps though, only little steps. But that is pretty cool, don't you think? A little cousin to harass, mwahaha…_

_As for your two Korean friends, they are doing well, so do not fret. Baek is getting plenty of students, which he is surprised about, and the money is slowly flowing in for them. He has spotted Kazuya a few times in his wanderings, though he doesn't think anything of it. He is even thinking of a second job, surprisingly, though he does not know where to start. But regardless, he has his health and he has Seong-Hada to keep him company. _

_That happy little monkey has been great. SH is slowly learning Japanese, with Xiao and Mi's help. Do you know what else? He even calls me, every day at five in the afternoon just to see how my day has been, even if it is only for thirty seconds. Such an adorable little thing, I can see why you and Hwoarang are so fond of him (though I know nothing of your history, this is only on an observational level). He successfully managed to get a job at… wait for it… the __**Italian Restaurant**__. I know, I am as baffled as you are. First Xiao and the music store, and now SH and the restaurant XD (oh look at that, __**another**__ emoticon… What does this one mean though? Help, please?)._

_All five, and myself, send best wishes to you and Hwoarang, and Asuka has a special message for him. She asked me to tell you to tell him that she is indeed 'ruling the arcades' here. The persistent little thing is trying to teach Xiao and Mi how to play… what was it called… Soul Calibur? Or something… She's trying to teach them some game, but they just grow bored of it and stalk off to the shopping stores. I think, in a sense, she misses the challenge that she had with you two, though she will not admit it._

_But enough of how things are over here; how are you and Hwoarang? Are you both getting along well? Is Greece and your Grandparents' home as you remember? You are not suffering from any memories? Do you both have jobs? How is his injury, is it healing? Is he having trouble with the language? Have you run into anyone you remember? The paparazzi aren't following you, are they? I know that out here, they have reported that the two of you were spotted in Greece, and are trying to get more information. Just thought I should give you a heads up. Seeing as the two of you were in the final four, they are probably going to be keeping an eye on you. They did that to me for the third and fourth tournaments as well._

_Please write back when you have the chance, I would love to hear from you. I doubt I am going to sleep any time soon, I am having too much fun looking around on the internet. There are so many games on here, and some of them are puzzling and challenging. Just the type of thing to get my brain working and to keep it functional during my holiday break. Anyway, this concludes my check up, so… I am off. Until next time, Razer._

_Love, Jin._

_P.S. Just remember, if you need anything, I will have it sent out to you._

She clicked the reply button, smiling. It was wonderful to hear from him after so, so long.

_To: Jin Kazama__  
From: Razer Athane  
Subject: RE: Check Up Time_

_Hey, you. I just got through your email, it made me grin. Great to hear from you. _

_Its morning out here, and its kinda warm. It's a nice change. Up here in the mountains it can get quite cold, so to have a warm day up here is just awesome. We're not wrapped up in blankets with chattering teeth, or basking in front of a heater. In fact it's so pleasantly warm at the moment that I'm sweating a little. Yes, you really needed to know that XD (XD is face, by the way. Turn your head to the left. X is the eyes, and D is the open mouth. I thought that you, Mr I'm-Fully-Japanese, would've known that)._

_No need to apologise about the delay, I've been busy here as well so I haven't had time to start a long email and send it. Its Saturday here, though, and I don't have work (yes, I work. Guess where, c'mon. …Have you guessed yet? No? Well… I work in a library, lol (I can't believe you used 'lol'. LOL!!)), so I've got heaps of time to reply to this email. About time you gave yourself time off, you're too much of a work-a-holic. And you? Become fat? I doubt that, buddy. Maybe 'I've lost muscle definition :(' but not 'I'm fat'. _

_Oh man, Xiao and Mi might be staying over huh? And Asuka's coming to live with you? You'll be surrounded by women! I can see it now, all of you in pink, fluffy pyjamas, congregating around a bunch of girly magazines that depict exactly which bra is the hottest at the moment (or which guy is the cutest at the moment), painting your toenails, debating over which colour would be best suited, etc. Have __**fun**__ with that Jin, really ;) Hehehehe._

_Awesome, congrats to Xiao for passing __maths__. I remember in the Third Tournament, I was in her room… she stumbled in with Mi, fully pissed off, holding an exam paper for maths. The result was 34/100. Ouch. But it's great that she's improved. And yes, Xiao working at the Mishima Zaibatsu would be a scary thought. Your office products wouldn't be safe Jin, they'd all be pink! I kid, I kid. At that music store huh? And SH at the restaurant? Talk about __**strange**__. Though, SH always wanted to become a chef, so I'm pretty sure he's happy with his job._

'_Hirano Industries'? For shoes? I'd buy 'em. Miharu knows her shoes, according to Hwoarang. You can have a joint partnership ;) lol. Tell Mi to keep trying for the job, it took me ages to get that job at the library. And cool about her fighting improving, maybe she can participate in the Sixth Tournament (and do better than she did in the Fourth, no offence to her). _

_You've met up with Asuka's Dad? Well then, how does it feel to meet your Uncle? :P And I think Asuka would do the harassing, not you. Sorry Jin but you don't exactly 'harass' very well XD And I'll be sure to inform Hwoarang that she's dominating the arcades soon._

_Hwo and I just spoke to Seong-Hada and Baek via chat, and they neglected to tell us all that information. I don't think Baek should get a second job – he's good at what he does, and he's getting old. He might not be able to cope with all the stress :(… Creepy that he's seen Kazuya around, though. I wonder what's become of him since the end of the tournament… I remember you telling me that he and Heihachi (individually) have come up and bugged you about the Zaibatsu, trying to get it off your hands._

_OMG SEONG-HADA'S LEARNING JAPANESE? LOL. He threw a fricken __**hissy fit**__ about learning English (apparently) and demanded that I learnt Korean instead to talk to him, haha. When Hwo and I met him on the streets, he knew no English. First word he learnt in English was 'baby' (hence him going around and saying 'Seong-Hada babyyy!' a lot). He's yet to master the word 'hamburger' – he settles on 'hambagah' instead. But yeah, SH is like that. He called up a lot at the tournaments. He's really a __**great**__ friend._

_Hwoarang and I… we're going great. Everything's been moving smoothly so far. Neither of us are ill. We haven't fought, etc… He even picked up his music again. He bought a guitar a few weeks back, and is considering a keyboard. Greece is like I remember, as is the home, though we've put our own personal touches to it. The memories come and go, but I do not fear them anymore, because that's all they are – they're a memory. He can't hurt me anymore. What happened to me as a child, all the abuse to me and my Mother… it happened. But I can't let it hold me back for the rest of my life. And I won't._

_Like I said, I've got a job at a library, and Hwo's working as a Tae Kwon Do teacher at a nearby gym. He's taking English speaking students only, because his Greek sucks. It's hilarious watching him try to say stuff, though I'm sure that it was hilarious to him watching me try to pronounce Korean words. Though I can't laugh at him for long, he ends up pouting and I just go "…oh fine I'm sorry, stop being so adorable"._

_His ribs, which were damaged in his fight against Kazuya, have (finally) healed. His back… it's coming along nicely. There's a scar from where Jinpachi inflicted the fatal blow, but it seems to be fading away quickly. He can do a majority of the kicks again, so he's really pleased about that. Unfortunately he still gets random attacks and just literally has to stop what he's doing to cope with the pain. It's really hard for me to watch but I try to be there. Luckily they're not as bad as they used to be, and they don't last as long… but the fact is, they're still __**there**__, you know?_

_I haven't run into anyone or anything that I know or recognise yet, or at least, that I remember. Though that will change once I finish this email, and I will give you the details later. I haven't noticed any paparazzi yet. I guess that's because they don't know where we live, mwahaha. Aaaand it's gonna stay that way. :D Besides, we don't need that stuff. I guess though if they come up, we could just train Snowy (that's our dog, she's a husky, only a puppy at the moment) to scare them away._

_Hey! Stop playing games, turn off the damn laptop, and go to __**sleep**__. The idea of you going on a break from work is to __**relax**__. So… go and relax would you? You deserve it, honestly. You push yourself too hard, work-a-holic ;) Talk to you later, alright?_

_Love, Razer._

_P.S. I don't need anything :) Thank you for offering, though. Also, Angel says hello._

As she clicked the 'send' button, she felt a breath by her ear, "'That will change'? Who are you going to see?"

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you not to eavesdrop?" Razer inquired, crossing her arms, looking at Hwoarang.

"How am I eavesdropping? I'm technically not 'listening' to anything," he smirked cheekily.

She rolled her eyes and couldn't hide a grin.

"So who are you seeing?"

"It's not a 'who', so to say… It is more of a 'where'. And I want you to come with me."

* * *

"Turn here."

The 21-year-old did as instructed, swerving the motorbike, going down a very narrow pathway. The path was lined with tall trees, their dark green leaves caving over them, creating a tunnel-like environment. He was clearly confused, though he did not question her sense of direction, or where she was leading them to.

"Stop here."

"Right here? Are you sure, Raze?"

"No one really knows about this path, and considering it is a Saturday, everyone will most probably be staying inside. Just park it here, it won't be stolen. We also will need to walk a little bit, but not very far, okay?"

Hwoarang nodded, parking the vehicle as advised. He waited until his girlfriend got off before he did. Making sure everything was set up, he turned back to her. There seemed to be a nervous aura around her, one he too found unsettling, as it got under his skin. It must have been about whatever this was, though. He furrowed his eyebrows, watching as she turned away from him and looked around.

How the trees have grown in your eight year absence… They are so tall now. Light used to be able to touch the foliage floor, and now, the cracks can barely get through the thick leaves… I'm surprised we didn't notice this last time.

_I _did_ notice… But you were corrupt._

Just because I was corrupt does not mean that I didn't notice these things.

Her gaze lowered to the floor, where she noticed a small bunch of flowers idly growing. It appeared they were doing quite well in this area, as a small stream of sunlight touched them from a gap in the canopy. Without a second thought, she squatted down and gently removed them from the ground. The weak roots gave way, tearing below the soil.

Hwoarang watched in silence as Storm Wind brushed the dirt off the bottom and held them in her hands, observing them in silence. The brilliant yellow centre and dark purple petals stared back up idly, quite healthy and alive. His memory wasn't the greatest, but he was pretty sure that he had never seen this side of her before. But he knew better than to question her now, particularly in the soundless state she was in.

Razer turned to look at him briefly, before looking away, holding the flora in one hand by her side. She began to walk back the way they had come, her footsteps heavy yet quiet. Her voice small, she spoke over her shoulder, "Follow me."

They made a right at the exit and continued walking for a good five minutes. No words were said, only occasional glances at one another. His expression was full of worry, and in response, her own was along the lines of a simple 'don't worry, I am okay'. But still, they continued to walk, hand in hand, the oldest of the two swinging their joint hands back and forth childishly, in an attempt to keep their moods stable and to break up the anxiety.

They turned left and stopped. The Blood Talon looked to his left, noticing how the woman simply stared down the street.

He felt her grip on his hand tighten, "This is the street I grew up in."

In response, he squeezed back, though verbally said nothing, too surprised to do so.

He never thought he'd be brought here.

…_You took me home._

Braving the apprehension, she began to take steps forward, heading down the street. He followed, standing right next to her, looking around the place. This was the place of her undoing. These were the people who remembered the little girl who was sent through hell in the comforts of her own home. These were the people who, out of respect, put three crosses at the front of where her home used to be, eventually taking one away when they realised that she lived.

The street itself seemed nice and friendly. There was a sense of community floating around, definitely. Through sienna eyes, he noticed a middle-aged woman tending to her garden, gently pouring water over small patches. As they walked by, close to her fence, she spotted the flow of Razer's white dress and looked up. She spoke, though he had no idea of what she said, "**Welcome back, Razer.**"

"**Thank you,**" the 20-year-old replied monotonously, trying to control her breathing.

"**It is about time you brought him with you.**"

She said nothing and continued on her way.

They passed the homes, and unlike last time, very few people stuck their heads out of the doors and windows, but those who did were pleasantly surprised, waving at them, saying hello and so on. And to her surprise, everyone said the same thing when they noticed Hwoarang by her side.

'It is about time you brought him with you.'

'You are going to show him?'

'Good to see that he is with you this time.'

Though he didn't understand what they were saying, the smiles on their faces meant that their comments were probably good. He'd ask her later, he guessed, when they were alone. They must've seen them together so much on tv at the tournaments, and therefore knew that he was an extremely close friend. But he was still struggling to believe that she had brought him _home. _He never asked, though he was a tad curious… He didn't want her to bring him here if she was still uncomfortable with the whole thing.

Then why was she dragging him by the hand, leading the way, looking up at a giant, white wooden house?

Soon enough, they passed it, and sienna eyes fell upon the designated area, the former number thirty eight. The grass was there, as she had described to him on the phone. And standing there out the front were the two crosses she had described. They weren't as he imagined, but they were still there, standing tall and proud, firmly lodged in the ground.

When they stopped before them, Razer spoke again, "And this is where I lived."

Hwoarang still said nothing and silently surveyed the area. He squinted, seeing her parents' names and ages inscribed, and bit the inside of his mouth. They were both thirty seven when they died? That's what she told him. Geez, so young, so young. But still, to stand here right now… Never in a million years did he think she'd bring him here.

_What an awkward spin on 'meet the parents'… _he thought to himself, if only to break up his own anxiety.

He felt her let go of her hand. With the flowers she had taken from the forest in hand, she took a few steps forward and placed them at the base of her Mother's cross, smiling, even talking, "**I promised you that I'd come back, and here I am. I found these flowers in the forest. They were always your favourite, I hope you like them. Oh… And I brought someone with me. I don't know if you… watch over me or whatever but, if you don't – or do – this is Hwoarang.**

"**I suppose I need to explain a little…? When I left home… I met him. And he saved me. He nursed me back to health and showed me that life was worth living. We have practically been through hell and back, side by side, and… I do not know about him but I can't imagine life without him. We did not talk about boyfriends much when you were alive but, I know you would think he is a great one. And he is. I do love him, and I hope you can see that.**

"**He has done everything for me, and I do not even know where to begin to return the deed. He died because of me, Mum. I don't know if you saw that. If that is not the greatest expression of love, even though it's the saddest and most heartbreaking, then I don't know what it is. I've wanted to bring him here for a long time and show him where I lived. He knows of what happened, and I figured that it would be good to show him. I hope you do not mind.**"

"**Thank you.**"

Razer lifted her head and looked to the Blood Talon, who was standing next to her. A hand was on her Mother's cross, and he was looking directly at it, as though he was communicating to her, somehow. She really needed to stop thinking so deep. It is possible that he understood some of the things she said, though she sorely doubted it.

_No… thank _you, _Hwoarang._

He grinned uncontrollably and took his hand off, placing back by his side. His gaze drifted to the other cross temporarily, his insides burning with anger for those few moments, before looking back to the Greek, whose face was clearly confused. His grin widened slightly, "What? You make it seem like I muttered something under my breath."

"That's because you _did._"

"Pssh," he snorted teasingly, lying, "Stop imagining things."

She smiled and shrugged, giving up for now, taking a step back, watching as her boyfriend followed suit. They linked hands again and looked around in silence. Both were trying to think of something to say, or something to do to cut up the current unpleasantness. Normally the silence wouldn't disturb them this much, but it was because of the nature of their journey today.

"See there?"

Hwoarang looked to her and followed her finger. It was pointing at the white house, at the very top of the window sill on the second floor. To see better from her angle, he leant in close, directing his head behind her line of sight, "Yeah?"

"The roof… it used to come up to there. And here…" she lowered her arm some more, "Just there was my parents' room. Over here…" she guided her hand to the other side, though still at the same height, "is where my room used to be. My walls were this… light green colour, you know? It was very calming."

He nodded, listening to her prattle on, "I would've thought your room's walls would be blue."

A light laugh, "Well, they weren't. The room was originally a light pink colour but Mum painted over it before I was born –"

"**Ah… Razer, Razer, Razer.** **Back again, I see.**"

Both heads turned to see an elderly woman, standing next door, all smiles. The woman tilted her head down slightly and waved at them. Hwoarang was clearly confused, though understood that she was a friend when Athane let go of his hand and practically ran over, embracing the shorter person.

The 20-year-old remarked pleasantly in greeting, "**Angela.**"

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow, surprised. This was the woman she stayed with when she first returned.

As he moved over, adjusting his goggles, he heard Storm Wind speak, "**It is wonderful to see you again. How are you?**"

"**I'm good, child, I'm good,**" she replied. With a smile, she looked to Hwoarang, "**And this is Hwoarang?**"

"**Yes, this is him.**"

"**What is his Greek like?**"

"**Very, **_**very**_** basic. You can have a go if you like but don't expect a spectacular result,**" she smirked.

In an almost sinister and teasing grin, Angela waved at Hwoarang. The Blood Talon smiled and waved back, rejoining his girlfriend's side, holding her hand once more. There was a brief pause before the elderly woman decided to open her mouth and ask the foreigner, "**How are you?**"

Alarms went off in his head. He knew what that meant!

'_Ti kanis' means 'how are you'! Yeah! …Crap, how do I reply?_

He paused for a good, long moment, even looking at the ground. He was aware of Razer's eyes on him, and the expression that was on her face was most probably an amused one. He suddenly looked back up, happy, a tad hyper that he found his answer, and smiling, and answered, "Kala. Esis?"

'Good. You?' Or, 'well. You?'.

"**I'm good, I'm good!**" Clearly pleased with the result, Angela looked to Razer again and waved them over towards her house, "**Come on, get inside, get inside! It's cold out here. I don't want you two getting sick…**" They were practically ushered into the woman's home. She closed the door and locked it behind her, going into the main living room, still prattling on, "**Make yourselves at home. Can I get either of you anything? Sit down, sit down! No need to just stand there!**"

Athane pulled the Korean onto the lounge, sitting the both of them down. After a quick English check with him in regards to whether he was hungry or thirsty, she replied to their host, "**No no, we are fine thank you.**"

Briefly nodding, Angela sat down in the chair opposite to them and clapped her hands together lightly. As her two guests leant back, she leant forward, beaming, "**So, the tournament! Tell me all about it! How did it go?**"

"**It went good,**" she responded, resting her head on Hwoarang's shoulder lazily, "**This loveable idiot got second place. The runner-up money pretty much took care of the initial bills when we moved into the house, and a few more after that. And there is still some in reserve for the future.**"

"**I see he's earned his keep then!**" she laughed.

Razer couldn't help but giggle either. Intrigued by what made her laugh, the 21-year-old leant in and asked, "What did she say?"

"She said that you've earned your place in my home."

He looked back to his right and also laughed, smiling, "I guess."

"**He has a wonderful smile,**" Angela blurted out of the blue.

She briefly looked to Angela, answering her, before looking to him, "**Yeah, he does.** He does have a wonderful smile."

Hwoarang covered his face, blushing (even though he, as he had said many times before, does _not _blush), and looked at the Greek lying on him, still smiling. He spoke without thinking, still too happy to care, "Yours is better."

She too smiled whole-heartedly before turning back to her long-time friend, conversing with her once again. The time went by quickly for those two, but for the foreigner who barely understood anything, it dragged on and on and on. But he remained quiet and reserved, trying to be polite, even though in reality, he was bored out of his mind.

"Hwoarang?"

He looked back to Razer, "Mm?"

"She said you don't have to sit here. She said you can go and grab something from the kitchen if you like."

"Is she sure…?"

"Yes."

He nodded, let go of her hand and stood, thanking the elderly woman in the local vernacular, "Efcharisto, Angela."

She smiled, though he didn't see, for he had already turned out of the room and left, exploring down the corridor. His hands were childishly in his pockets, reminding himself not to touch anything because this was someone else's house. What if he broke that picture frame that was oh so innocently hanging from the wall? It was crooked too…

_Maybe I should straighten it?_

He aggressively shook his head, reminding himself not to touch anything. This wasn't his home, or a friend's room. He had no business here at all. …Then again, the woman did say that he could have some food. Okay, so he could touch anything food related, but nothing that _wasn't _food related. Yeah. That'd work.

He soon found the kitchen and entered quietly, realising that in actual fact, it wasn't that far from the living room. He quietly looked around, noticing the simple decorations in the area, such as a glass chicken (for whatever reason), and a little chef, _Okay, so, stage one complete. I'm in the kitchen. Now to find some food for everyone._

The Blood Talon settled on opening the cupboards above the sink, seeing if there was anything interesting to eat in there. He took one hand from his pocket and opened one of the doors, then the other. It was a lucky guess, and inside were assortments of cookies, biscuits and small cakes in various glass jars. So many options…

He leant back, thinking, wondering which jar to bring inside. He liked the look of the various small cakes. In one of the jars, the cakes were tiny and covered in what appeared to be white powder. If he were to hold them, they would just sit nicely in the middle of his palm. There was another that looked so much bigger, and it appeared to be flaky.

There was another jar that held medium-sized cakes. They were a light brown colour, almost orangey, and they appeared to have small pieces of nuts on them. They looked damn tasty, just sitting there, acting all innocent in the jar…

Little did he know, Razer had walked in as well. He had been in there for a while, leaning back, arms folded across his stomach, looking at all the foods that were available. A thoughtful look was on his visage, as though he were determining which food everyone would like as opposed to him, or just her, or just Angela. The very sight of his confused yet unwavering expression had her heart melt.

He was like a lost puppy, wanting to please, but confused as to how.

She approached stealthily, standing directly behind him, and looked over his shoulder, inspecting what he was inspecting. He started to reach a hand out, going to grab the jar that had the small, white cakes, but before long, she had grabbed his forearm and guided it in the direction of the medium-sized snacks. She let go as he seized it and brought it back, placing it on bench before him whilst closing the cupboard door silently.

"So how long have you been spying on me?" Hwoarang asked through a smirk.

"Long enough," she replied, wrapping her arms around his stomach. She rested her chin on his left shoulder, "Those are honey short bread cakes. I have been meaning to buy some so I can show you. Angela likes them, I love them, and I think you will too. They are very sweet and tasty."

He smiled and looked at her, throwing his arms behind him, hugging her too, "I'm sure."

She squeezed tighter, turning her head up to look at him.

"Thank you for bringing me to your home. It must've been hard."

"I thought it would have been too, but… it wasn't. I guess having you with me made it so."

Hwoarang's gaze drifted from the woman behind him to the window nearby. He gazed out into the horizon, "Saugapo."

Razer smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, "Sarang hae."

They stayed there, almost completely forgetting where they were and what they were doing here, entwined (however awkwardly) in each other's arms, taking in the warmth of the other person. Things could be burning down around them, and they wouldn't care, because this was perfect. Despite heartache, laughter, fear, peace, despair and joy, they found their way through those times, side by side, hand in hand; up to this moment with one another.

"**Home is **_**who…**_" Angela murmured with a smile from around the corner, "**Not **_**where.**_"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Are we sick of author's notes yet? ;) lol. And so the story ends. This took _a year _to write, and I was just about to give up on it, especially at my down time (chapter 11 – 20, and even afterwards). But I'm glad I got through it, though it pushed my patience to the very limits, to the brink of lesser insanity -.-

I'm stunned at my review count. Seriously. 232 (as of posting this) reviews is quite shocking for me. I never thought I would get over 200 reviews in my _life, _but you guys did it, to my surprise, so in all seriousness, thank you so, so much. The overwhelming praise… is amazing. Honestly. I can't express my gratitude to each reviewer and each reader enough. And as always, its time for the special 'thank you's.

_TeaC0sy:_

I don't really have anything to say. Okay well, it's not that I have _nothing _to say, or whatever, but it's just there's so much I want to say to you that it gets clogged in my throat and I can't get it out. And in cheesiness, I repeat everything I said in the previous two fics a thousand times over with maximum strength. From the "very interesting! A great start… update…" (first review you ever wrote me in _JLM _:P lol) to the "Razer is practically a Tekken character, for me" on MSNM, to the "…ZOMG. WORTH THE WAIT" in my hiatus during _WM; _you've… wow I don't know.

I never thought I'd meet someone like you through here, let alone have a fellow author evolve into one of my bestest best friends. On writing and personal issues, you've always been there for me, giving me suggestions, helping me out, pointing me in the right direction in my times of doubt, encouraging me to just _keep trying, _no matter how hard it is or how ridiculous my idea may be. You've done this for me from the very beginning. You were my first reviewer. And I can't thank you enough for everything you've ever done for me.

In my times of darkness, you're my torch. When I'm drowning in the pressure that I put on myself from writing, you give me a hand and pull me into your little boat. When I'm flying too high, you either come and join me in the air so I'm not alone, or grab me by my foot and pull me back to the ground. **You are my rock,** and just as I will always have the biggest, most awesome fan _and friend _in you, you will always have the biggest, most awesome fan and friend in me. And before this gets too cheesy: _Seong-Hada baby! Uhhhh._

Uh k, didn't expect it to be that long o.o Now to other people who deserve attention XD

_AmberAnodyne and Sei Honou:_

Did you know that these two started my series at the _exact _same time and got through _all the way _before I had even **finished?** That's pretty amazing in my opinion ;) And then they'd come on MSNM and rant over and over about it, talking about how much they loved such and such, LOL o.o But its fun, its fun X] At least when I start _Take Me Back, _you guys won't have to read a lot to catch up eh? :P

AmberAnodyne: Like TeaC0sy, I'd bitch to you about this story -.- Thanks for letting me do so, firstly, and secondly, thanks for helping me out with the writer's block. If it weren't for you and TeaC0sy, this story would _not _have been finished – it would've been given up on. So know that you helped complete a creation ;) lolololol. And thanks for letting me use Scar and Faith temporarily, it was fun :P All the best in the future.

Sei Honou: OMG SEIIIIII. Hi. Sup. I'm good, you? K enough with the pointless stuff XD You're a dedicated little fan, aren't you? ;) When you _should _be doing your homework, you're reading this story instead XD (you too, AmberAnodyne. Get back to work). Anyway thanks for standing by me, you're a hardcore fan!

_And last but not least, again, my Beta:_

FOR THE THIRD TIME, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE?! XD Jokes. You're, as always, full of awesome. Thanks for sticking by me for another rollercoaster story. You've watched my writing grow with me, and it was a pleasure to let you read the chapters before everyone else, and hear your "that's cute!" rambles (i.e. Snowy in this chapter XD). Anyway thanks again, you are so **groovy** ;) XDDD

And I can't forget the rest of my loving fans, so many thanks to: [[=story+time=]], DEGxMDM, Dynasty021 (thanks dude! I'm glad you've enjoyed this story), HOIME G, Esther-Diana, AngelEyes87 (man, I can't wait until you come back to FFN X]), XxBaByAnGeLxX, Salysha (thanks as always!), spongecake 2 (YOUR. REVIEWS. ARE LEGENDARY. I WANNA MARRY YOUR REVIEWS XD Thanks a bunch!), , DiamondStarr, Emerald Silent Eyes, MoonTeARZ, and last but certainly not least, PopShop (oh _now _you start reading, J-Woman? Took your sweet time didn't ya?! XD Thanks!).

So uh… The last time we were here, I was at least twenty chapters ahead… I'm not even ten chapters ahead of you atm in _Take Me Back, _so… I'm not posting it straight away, and the posts between chapters _will _be delayed further to possibly once every week or two. But it seems I'm getting my writing speed back, so hopefully when I post the first chapter, I'll be twenty chapters ahead of you again, bwahahaha. Regardless! THE PREQUEL WILL BE HERE. I promise ;) Those who are hardcore Jin x Razer, sorry to say but, the _whole _of the Prequel is Razer x Hwoarang, so uh… read if you like? lol. But yeah. Anyway, see you guys around! Oh, and yes. **No Tomorrow **_**will **_**be updated soon.** ;)


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